100 Tales of an Idol and Luck
by Liosel
Summary: 100 semi-connected tales detailing the lives and relationship of Makoto Naegi and Sayaka Maizono. (AU, Naezono). Inconsistent updates
1. Mellow

**Well, my first official piece of work that will be going up on this site. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous or intimidated, but I feel obligated to introduce myself, if only for this one story. Hello, I'm Elegance Silenced, but any nickname will do, since my name is quite a mouthful. I'm just a guy who writes in his spare time, and felt the need to publish this. Feh, if you want any personality-traits that I outright state, you can just check the first paragraph on my profile; I'm too lazy to reiterate them.**

 **Alright, now for the concept of this story. Well, I decided that I wanted my first series to be unconnected. Anachronistic. Unorganized, yet still united under a single theme, being the rather underrated pairing of Makoto Naegi/Sayaka Maizono from Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc. This pairing is rather underwritten, as are most pairings in the fandom, and most of the high quality stories I see are of other pairings, or general pieces of work, or a combination of both. Now, I make no promises on the quality of these set of tales, but I will assure you that I will write them to the best of my abilities... However high that ability is, I leave up to you.**

 **Some information. This will be a one hundred chapter prompt-inspired story, composed entirely of one-shots, (some interconnected, others just outliers), all starring the same pairing, which I had spoke about in my previous paragraph, and the chapters will vary in length, themes, world settings, and maturity rating, though I do not expect them to hit past Fanfiction's 'M' rating. I will assign each chapter a separate rating beforehand, to put more cautious readers at east.**

 **Also, these will be written anachronistically, and will have chapters take place on multiple different timelines, though it should be obvious when you start reading them. I also have no beta, and am resigned to self-checking, so I will obviously miss a few mistakes.**

 **(Obligatory Disclaimer at the first chapter: I do not own Danganronpa nor am I affiliated with any of its properties, this story is done purely for fun)**

 **Now, this author's note has grown a smidge too long. Let us begin, shall we?**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Mellow  
Rating: K+**

Makoto Naegi was confused at how his classmates reacted, when he revealed that he and Sayaka Maizono were dating. He was more sanguine and bright about what his classmates would think, whilst Sayaka was more bearish and jaded about how people would react. The logical part of Makoto's brain told him to agree with what Sayaka was saying. After all, she was in the idol business, which was filled with cutthroat people, and she definitely has the intellectual capability and experience in the rough business to have realistic expectations, which contrasted greatly to Makoto's own, more idealistic look, but he remained steadfast in his beliefs, if only due to his optimistic nature.

Hope's Peak Academy, along with its students, was proving his thoughts very, _very,_ wrong. Everywhere he went, he had people that, simply put, wouldn't leave him alone, haggling him constantly about him and the idol.

"Hey, Makoto, I bet she's only dating you for the publicity!"

Makoto ignored the harassment from his ruder classmates and begun envisioning the brighter, more cheerful aspects of his soon to come romance. Beach strolls, picnics, maybe even just a trip to the park. Each and every fantasy brought a fuzzy feeling to his chest, which helped to reinforce his patience when dealing with others. Soon, he would be out of his class and he could spend time with his actual friends, who were busy trying to discourage any hecklers from getting physically violent with Makoto.

Makoto inwardly laughed. Sometimes it paid to be friends with a baseball star, a biker slash gang leader, and a martial artist.

Someone jostled him roughly, snapping him out of his thoughts and knocking him off balance. Makoto stumbled backwards, astonished by both the sudden contact, and the sudden jolt to reality, before Makoto began to search for the source of the shove. A tall, hulking boy stared down at Makoto gave him his answer, a glare present in the taller boy's eye. Makoto gulped.

"Is there something I can do for you?" He asked, a bit terrified by the husky boy, who had ridiculously dashing good looks. He snorted, turning to stare off towards people who'd taken notice of them, which was quite a few due to Makoto's recent infamy.

"Why, I seem to have finally ascertained the boy who'd won over Maizono-san's heart," He said, his voice dripping with contempt and superiority. Makoto tilted his head, confused by the boy's hostility, as he tutted with disapproval. "Of all of the fellows that Maizono-san could have chosen as worthy... _this_ is the poor sod who wins?" He said in disbelief. Makoto stared at him, realizing that he- and indirectly, Sayaka- had been insulted by this pompous boy, who had the looks and attitude to rival Byakuya's. Makoto smiled patiently.

"Do you have a problem with my relationship with Sayaka-chan?" He asked curiously, staring up, a combination of playfulness and tolerance on his face, evidently suggesting that he'd been through this. The boy clicked his tongue in disgust, as his eye scanned Makoto from top to bottom, and Makoto guessed, from the sour expression on his face, that he wasn't impressed with what he saw. The boy spoke once more.

"I'm shocked that Maizono-san," He spoke her last name proudly, as if he was delighted that he used the formal version of Sayaka's name, where Makoto had previously failed, "Would choose someone as... uncultured and untidy as you are," He admitted. Makoto rolled his eyes. He'd already heard this many times over, both from the media, and from his classmates alike. _'Maizono-san could've chosen someone_ so _much better,'_ or _'You're no good for her,'_ were among the deviations that Makoto had heard in the single weekend alone, after Sayaka had revealed their status to the public. Honestly, he was getting a bit tired of it, but he had to keep up his patience, because he knew that anger would only incite more anger. Deciding to make a rebuttal to the boy's previous statement, Makoto spoke up.

"Well, I did something right then. She chose me over you, so that means that my uncultured behaviour is appealing to her," He said, mockingly copying the snide tone that the boy was using against him earlier. The boy scoffed at the notion.

"That's precocious. She's never met me. I wager that, if she had, she'd choose me in a heartbeat," He boasted.

"Oh, is that so?"

Makoto turned in surprise as he recognized the voice and presence of the intruder. The other boy had realized the identity of their newcomer as well, as he suddenly lost all his composure, and he began stammering, a small tint on his cheeks.

"M-m-maizono-san!" He said, his voice peaking at the end. The idol stared at him with ocean blue eyes, which were concealing the rage she stored for individuals such as the boy in front of them.

"Would you kindly stop harassing my boyfriend? I believe he's felt quite enough today," Sayaka said sweetly, her voice clipped with aggravation towards the haughty boy. Makoto was inwardly relieved that she'd decided to intervene on the situation, before it ended up any worse; most could agree that Makoto was a pushover when it came to ordering people around.

"B-but, Maizono-san, I simply refuse to believe that this... swine is truly your companion!" He said in disbelief. If Makoto was miffed at the statement, then Sayaka was outright peeved. Her eyes had grown dangerously dark, and she bit her lower lip in a bid not to lose her patience and simply begin attacking others. Fortunately for the pretentious boy, Sayaka managed to curb her rage enough to respond.

"Hmm... Would this be enough to make you believe?" She asked, before promptly sliding over and pecking Makoto on the cheek in a grossly exaggerated fashion, complete with the loud lip smack, latching on to his arm afterwards. Makoto's face slowly heated up at the display of affection, as he wisely decided to clam up any further. The previously proud boy's eyes were wide, as his mind had difficulty processing his situation. Sayaka giggled. "Makoto-kun, can we go for some lunch after school?~" She asked in a sweet manner, though Makoto suspected that she was just trying to embellish their relationship. He, nevertheless, nodded mutely, as the pretentious boy slumped over, his head hung in defeat.

"...Very well, Naegi. Maizono-san," Makoto rolled his eyes at the lack of formality with his name, "I shall take my leave," He said, defeated, before staggering off, his gait mismatched. Once he'd disappeared, Sayaka groaned.

"Honestly, if I get one more person criticizing us, then I'm going to start destroying some stuffed teddy bears," She said angrily. Makoto chuckled sheepishly, a bit flummoxed at the oddly specific threat. Sayaka quickly whirled on the brunette. "You need to start fending off these people more, Makoto-kun!" She admonished, her eyes betraying her concern. Makoto, on the other hand, laughed, waving it off.

"Sayaka-chan, if I do that, then I'll just end up starting more riots over me, especially since people are _waiting_ for me to trip up," He said. Sayaka sighed resignedly.

"You're too placid for your own good, y'know that?" Sayaka mumbled, resting her head on his shoulder. Makoto chuckled.

"I don't like the word placid. Maybe 'mellow' would work better," He corrected. Sayaka laughed as she detached herself from his arm, her earlier rotten mood pushed to the back of her mind, as she glanced up at the clock.

"Well, 'Mellow'-kun, where should we go for that lunch?" She pondered, the earlier crowd dissipaiting from the action, once the potentially violent situation had defused. Makoto blinked.

"Wait, what?" He said flatly. Sayaka chuckled at her boyfriend's sudden stunned tone, as she spoke.

"I did ask if we could go for lunch, remember? And, if I recall, you accepted," She said. Makoto blinked, as the memories from a few minutes ago suddenly fully sunk into his mind. He opened his mouth to protest, to say _'I thought you were just joking!',_ but nothing came out. Just simple, delayed jaw movements, as Sayaka's amusement rose further. "I wouldn't joke about a date, Makoto-kun," She sniffed, as Makoto blinked. She'd just answered his unasked question.

"How did-?"

"I answer your question?" She finished, her head tilted. A playful smirk appeared on her lips as she responded cryptically, "Simply, silly. I'm an esper!"

Makoto sighed. She'd given this answer before at random times, and it appeared that he'd received the answer once more. She never gave an actual answer, or even an explanation to _why_ she gave such a mysterious answer, it was just simply "I'm an esper," and that was that. No further questions, discussions, or answers pertaining to that simple bit of dialogue. He raised his eyebrows dully at the blue-haired girl.

"Hmm... I guess we could go for something American, if that's alright with you," He mumbled. Sayaka smiled.

"Perfect! I'll meet you at the school gates, alright, Makoto-kun?" She said in affirmation. Makoto jerked his head, signalling he understood, as Sayaka chuckled. "Right. I'll meet you after school. See you then!" She gave him a quick peck on the lips, and a "Love you!", before she hurried down the hall, in a potentially futile attempt to reach her next class before the school bell would begin ringing. Makoto watched her run off, entertained at the spectacle, and he chuckled.

 _"_ _This will be an interesting relationship,"_ He thought amusedly, as he walked off towards a classroom in the opposite direction, the school bell ringing in his ears.

* * *

 **A bit odd for the prompt, so I'll explain. This chapter is mainly to highlight Makoto's mellow behaviour when it comes to dealing with haters that, inevitably, would pop up with a relationship with someone famous. It also gives some insight on how Sayaka and Makoto deal with these types of people differently. Sayaka being more violent and upfront than Makoto's pushover nature, for example.**  
 **mellow  
: pleasantly rich, full or soft : not harsh, bright or irritating**  
 **: having a pleasing rich flavour that develops over time  
** **: very calm and relaxed.**


	2. Eternal

**(Small headnote here to thank my first reviewer! Thanks a ton, ClearlyOriginal! Also, a thank you to everyone who followed/favourited my story, you guys are great!)**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Eternal  
Rating: K+**

Sayaka sighed as she stared at the night sky, huddling her body closer in an attempt to maintain body heat, the chill of the night brushing against her pale skin. It was beautiful that night, the inky blue-black sky twinkling with small, pearly beads, detailing the positions of the stars that shined above them, clustered in different pockets and positions. A cold wind suddenly brushed down her body once more, and she shivered involuntarily. She glanced down, and, to her surprise, in the dim light of the night, she saw her breath cloud underneath her nose. Was it really that close to winter? She'd lost track of time, caring for their grandchildren, who had recently turned one.

A sudden blanket of warmth enveloped her, interrupting her thoughts and causing her to look up in astonishment, her ocean blue eyes squinting to try and discern any details of the figure standing over her. Makoto grinned, his green eyes seemingly sparkling in the night, and Sayaka just sighed and smiled, as the brunette slowly sat down behind her, wrapping his arms around her sides, as he rested his head on her shoulders. Sayaka sighed, pulling the blanket and repositioning it to cover both of them, as Makoto sighed contentedly.

"This night is lovely, isn't it?" He asked, his warm breath tickling Sayaka's ear. Sayaka hummed in agreement, not taking her eyes off the twinkling orbs of lights that danced in the sky above. "It's like they're dancing just for you," He murmured into her ear. Sayaka glanced back, where she spotted Makoto's eyes fluttering, most likely from fatigue. She sniffed.

"How oddly romantic of you," She said oddly, as Makoto laughed.

"Am I not allowed to be romantic to my wife?" He questioned, tightening his grip around her, as another cold gust nipped at their skin. Sayaka tightened her grip on her blanket as Makoto leaned in closer to her. Sayaka shrugged.

"It's weird after this many years of marriage," She responded, her cheeks turning red from the frostbitten air. Makoto was silent, which, in Makoto's nature, meant that he agreed with her. Her previous statement gave her pause, however, as the enormity of her rebuttal fully sunk in her mind. She never would've thought that, in her entire life, she'd use her marriage's longevity as an arguement. She went silent, which Makoto knew meant she was contemplating a thought. Finally, after an extended period of time, she spoke up.

"Makoto, we've become... _old,_ " Makoto shuddered at the word, the very concept of it foreign to him. His parents were old. His grandparents were old. He wasn't old. Definitely not him. He spoke up, in a protest.

"That's stupid, Sayaka-chan. There's no way-"

A harsh laugh cut him off, as Sayaka trembled from the humour, her body shaking as she cackled oddly. After a while, the blue-haired woman had calmed down sufficiently and began her explanation to

"Makoto-kun, look at the facts. We have children that are older than we were when we first started dating. We've got grandchildren, Makoto! Hell, look at us right now!" She said, her face turning fully to stare at Makoto. When Makoto scrutinized her face, he realized what she was saying. Sayaka's face wasn't smooth, delicate, and youthful. It was lined with a few wrinkles, and her eyes were dulled. Her blue hair had silver streaks in them; the telltale sign of old age. Makoto would wager, if he could see his own face, he'd see similar streaks of grey, or wrinkles. Makoto went silent; his sign of agreement, and Sayaka smirked triumphantly. After a while, Makoto spoke up.

"Heh, do you think Sachiko will toss us into an elderly home soon?" He asked, grinning impishly. Sayaka snorted, her daughter's face involuntarily filling her mind.

"If she knows what's good for her, she won't," She retorted. Makoto, wisely, decided not to point out the age difference of about twenty-five years to the fifty-year-old woman. Besides, he'd believe that Sayaka would, and could, fight back a few people trying to throw her into a retirement home. Heck, she might even try to stab a few people if pushed far enough. After a while of staring up at the stars some more, Makoto chuckled.

"Y'know, after all these years, I'm amazed we're still like this," He said contentedly. After a small period of time, he decided to elaborate. "You've seen some marriages. They don't last a long time, and they don't even do things like this after a long time. They become more like roommates," He said. Sayaka hummed in agreement, thinking to her own friend, Aoi Asahina. She'd married a man, who she swore she loved in highschool. It had lasted an astonishingly low one year, before they'd split, all chemistry lost nearly immediately. Multiple times, Aoi had told Sayaka how envious she was of her wedlock's strength. Sayaka, personally, agreed with Asahina. After all, Makoto was a simple childhood crush, from middle school, of all times. She'd fully expected it to fizzle out a few months afterwards.

She was horribly wrong. As they entered Hope's Peak Highschool, her infatuation only increased towards him, and, in their third year, she'd finally asked him out, and they got married four years later, at twenty years old. Sayaka chuckled at the sudden revelation, which Makoto looked confused at. After she'd calmed down once more, she voiced the realization. They'd been married for nearly three decades. Makoto went slack-jawed.

"Really? Woah..." He said, his voice spaced out at her observation. He hadn't expected so many years to pass by so quickly. He chuckled, a new thought appearing in his mind. "We should have an three-decade anniversary," He said. Sayaka rolled her eyes, as another cold gust blew into her, causing her to involuntarily shiver, despite the warm blanket around them. She stood up abruptly, the blanket loosing itself from her grasp and fluttering to the ground.

"Let's go back in, I'm cold," She said. Makoto was silent as he stood up, before draping the blanket around Sayaka's body. She smiled, as they began walking. While they were walking down the path to their house, Makoto had one more thought.

"Sayaka, how long do you think our marriage will last?" He wondered. Sayaka sniffed, the question appearing rhetorical to her. She turned and gave him a smile, keeping the same, brisk pace. Her answer carried on the wind as they walked off towards the lights of the suburbs.

"An eternity."

* * *

 **Futher chapters will have more simplified, commonplace terms in order to provide enjoyment to the greater audience, and prevent the annoying ritual of using a dictionary... Yeah, I didn't think of the unfortunate process when creating the first chapter. (Should I rewrite it to use more simplified terms?). In any case, the majourity of these words will be commonplace, and easy to understand or infer,**  
 **This... this was something, alright. I'll be honest, it took me quite a few attempts to properly write this story to a satisfactory degree, as I always had a few qualms that simply chewed away at my mind until I had to restart it with a new attempt after each reset. It took me four to five tries to remember the connotation that Eternal had with the night. I promptly smacked myself in the face and penned this chapter afterwards. This chapter was mainly to highlight their matrimony's longevity, as it takes on a timeline separate from the last one, where they've been married for a lengthy period of time, and Sayaka just notices it, alongside its implications.  
Personal opinion?... I don't like this chapter very much. Too fluffy and filled with nothing to me, but the prompt word I was stuck with didn't exactly give me many other directions I could take this in. A word basically meaning forever, this was the obvious, if a bit schmaltzy, conclusion. Also, the quality of this chapter could've been a _lot_ worse than it ended up being.  
Oh, and a random fact, but the name I chose for their mentioned daughter, "Sachiko", isn't actually meaningless. After a bit of researching due to my complete nescience on eastern languages, I managed to find out that the name means "child of happiness", which is pretty fitting here. But, I've rambled for too much. Ciao!  
eternal  
: having no beginning and no end in time : lasting forever  
: existing at all times : always true or valid  
: seeming to last forever**


	3. Subtle

****(Thanks for the favourites and reviews again! Don't be afraid to review, I welcome all of 'em)  
****

* * *

 ** **Chapter 3: Subtle  
Rating: K+****

It took five cues, some extremely subtle, others less so, for people to realize that Sayaka liked Makoto.

The first, subtle cue was her sudden interest in him. You see, Makoto never realized that Sayaka had spotted him nurse a crane back to health, and, for the longest time, thought that he and his two friends, Kyoko Kirigiri and Chihiro Fujisaki were the only three people who knew of the crane's existence. In fact, he wouldn't know that Sayaka was watching until their first year of university, where she outright told him so. Thus, he was surprised by her sudden concern for him. After all, she was the "Ultimate Pop Sensation", and he was just a random schmuck off the streets that got his named picked in a draw. He was nothing special. In fact, he was lucky he had friends at all, even if Kyoko and Chihiro both had oddball tendencies, but he honestly thought that they were the only two that he was going to get in Hope's Peak.

Then the crane incident had occurred. He, Kyoko and Chihiro had spotted a crane near the gardens of the academy, its wing broken, and its body frail. His inner empathy kicked in, and he and his friends had spent the subsequent week nursing it back to health, releasing it soon afterwards. Even though they released it, Makoto swore he saw the crane return every once in a while, though Kyoko would just call him an idiot for it.

In any case, a few days after they'd done that, Sayaka Maizono had just... appeared. Walked up during one free period, sat down with them, and begun conversing, as if they'd been friends forever. Suffice it to say, they were a bit surprised. Sayaka was one of, if not the most, popular students in Hope's Peak, and they were more like outcasts in the school. They were cautious around her at first; this wasn't the first popular student to approach them, but once they'd figured her as genuine, they eventually opened up to her, and truly considered her a friend. Makoto never figured out why she decided to just join them, and when he asked, she just laughed and waved it off, somehow diverting attention away from herself. He'd tried a few more times, and even Kyoko and Chihiro took a crack at it, but she never would fess up, so they just left it alone, and it sunk to the depths of their subconscious.

The next cue was her sudden, steadfast loyalty in them. While it was true that she'd become friends with them, Makoto figured it wouldn't last; the faculty and students of Hope's Peak would push her away in an instant, and she'd just return to her life filled with backstabbers and greedy individuals. In fact, Kyoko was even hosting a bet on how long it would take, though they made sure to hide that from Sayaka so as to not incur her wrath. And, when the time came at around a few days, they all expected her to go quietly, without much of a quarrel. No one expected her to full out defend the trio of misfits she'd grown accustomed to, even going so far as to call them her only true friends, and nearly renouncing her title as an idol, if not for the compromise they'd reached. Even the skeptical Kyoko Kirigiri was stunned at the idol's strong sense of camaraderie, as the girl nearly threw a chair at someone who had made a nasty remained pertaining to Chihiro's gender, only to be calmed by Makoto. After that, no one questioned her choice of friends, for fear of their own well being.

The third cue was her latching onto Makoto in particular. Though she enjoyed spending time with each of them, she took a special liking to Makoto in particular, though she appeared oblivious to Makoto's long time crush on the blue-haired girl. If given the choice, she would usually choose to pair up with Makoto for school projects and field trips, and she'd sit next to the brunette if she had a chance. All of them noticed this soon enough, but no one decided to protest it, as they, simply put, didn't really care, though it did garner some teasing from their classmates, particularly Leon Kuwata, which, ironically, got the baseball player an object thrown at him.

The fourth cue was Sayaka's body language, though only Kyoko picked up on this one. In her eyes, Sayaka's growing crush on the boy was painfully obvious. She noticed the small details: Makoto being the only one to successfully calm her down, and her suddenly sticking herself to the brunette, and, now, the signs of someone growing infatuated with someone. Sayaka would shrink herself, make herself seem smaller and more helpless. She'd act, well, cute, and friendlier around Makoto, though the difference was extremely marginal and, in Kyoko's opinion, a bit contrived. However, no one could deny the ever present tint of red on Sayaka's cheeks, the one that grew if she and Makoto accidentally brushed past each other, or if he'd complimented him. Sure, it wasn't strange for Makoto to do that; both Kyoko and Chihiro knew of his crush on the idol, but for Sayaka herself to do so? It was... unexpected, if Kyoko was being completely honest with herself.

And finally, the fifth cue was the one simple question she popped on him.

"Will you go on a date with me?"

Their entire group had gone silent. Chihiro had completely ceased typing up code. Kyoko had nearly spit out the cupped noodles in the thermos that she was eating. Makoto just stared slack-jawed. All of them stared at Sayaka, who had her blue eyes trained in on Makoto. Naturally, he was dumbfounded, and took a few minutes to respond, and even then, he was just resigned to incoherent babbling. After a while, the incoherence turned into one full sentence.

"W-with _me_?!" He said incredulously, pointing to himself with a heavy blush on his face. Sayaka had rolled her eyes at what Makoto just said.

"Yes, with you. Who else? Chihiro? Kyoko?" She retorted, glancing at the boy. Makoto's brain was scrambled, as he simply couldn't believe what was happening. The idol, and his crush, Sayaka Maizono was asking him out. Kyoko was, inwardly, laughing at the odd role reversal, though she maintained her passive façade on the outside. Chihiro was watching them with complete interest, deciding to put away the project "Chiaki Nanami" in favour of watching the two interact. Makoto was simply staring, awestruck. This was a situation that he'd only dreamed about, and that's what he thought it was: a dream. Experimentally, he decided to slap himself.

 _Whack._

His gingerly rubbed his cheek, which was now red for two reasons, and he stared up. It wasn't a dream. Sayaka was truly asking him out, though he'd expected her to be silent, instead of giggling at his confounded expression and self-inflicted injury. After a while, he still couldn't pick out the words from the jumbled brain, and just nodded. Sayaka clapped her hands, her cheeks going noticeably red as well, though Makoto didn't pick up on this.

"Perfect! I'll see you at the school gates after school!" She said, Makoto nodding eagerly.

All of a sudden, the bell rung, signalling that their next class was about to begin. They all nodded and began packing up their things and head back to class. A normal ending to a period. Except, this time, Makoto and Sayaka had held hands. Kyoko couldn't help but smirk, her predictions coming true. It had taken five subtle cues, but both Makoto and Sayaka had finally picked up on them.

* * *

 **Oh man, it took me** _ **way**_ **too long to think of a suitable premise for this story... This was difficult, alright? 'Subtle' had no outstanding ideas that come to mind immediately (one might say they were subtle), and I had to ponder it over very extensively. Writing this from Sayaka's perspective would be too predictable, so I forced myself to write it from Makoto's perspective (I'm beginning to spot a pattern). I also decided to change up the story structure to make it a lot more interesting. After all, it wouldn't be fun to have a bunch of stories basically copy-pasted over and over, right? Chronologically, I'd have this one stand alone, due to multiple small inconsistencies if I tried linking this behind Mellow. As for the story itself, I wanted to relate the word to small body language cues, and things that aren't easily picked up by most people. Hence, "Subtle". Honestly, this was the only worthwhile idea that came to my mind when writing this chapter, so I decided to write it as best as I could.  
I'm very pleased with how this story turned out, quality wise. Sure, it's a bit shorter than the previous two chapters, but there is little to no filler in the story whatsoever, and it's written as concisely as possible while still getting across everything I wanted to.  
Oh and the first actual appearances, and not mentions, by people other than Makoto or Sayaka. It's a start, even if it's only Kirigiri and Fujisaki.  
subtle  
: hard to notice or see : not obvious  
: clever and indirect : not showing your real purpose  
: having or showing skill at recognizing and understanding things that are not obvious**


	4. Cheat

**(Thank you all, once again, for reviewing, favouriting and following! Nearing 10 favourites and follows as of this chapter's release. Never thought I'd make it this far, to be honest. Thought I would've been burned alive at chapter one. Regardless, enjoy!**

 **Oh yeah and some swearing in this chapter. Hence the "T" rating.)**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Cheat  
Rating: T**

Sayaka gingerly bit her lip, watching the downcast boy from afar.

 _"_ _Isn't that the Lucky Bastard?" Her friend whispered urgently to another, her green eyes alight with fear. Sayaka stared at the brunette boy, who opened his locker, grabbed a few books from the top shelf, and shut the metal door with a loud clang, turning and walking away._

Sayaka watched as a few people began jeering at him, hollering various curses and angry statements at him, which went unnoticed due to the loud bus that roared by, masking their noise. However, to Sayaka's eye, it looked like he'd heard them anyways, as his head drooped further to his knees, his body nearly slumped all the way over.

 _"Yeah. He's supposed to have so much luck it's freaky," Another of them muttered, holding a slender hand up in front of her lips to mask her lip movements. Sayaka watched as the boy turned around, staring at the group, before spinning back, sticking his hand out in an odd manner. Suddenly, a laptop fell into his hand. Surprised, he swiveled around, looking for the owner. Said owner was an androgynous student with chestnut brown hair, bowing repeatedly as a form of apology, as he brushed it off, handing the piece of technology to the androgynous student.  
_

A sudden gust of wind blew in the air, blasting past Sayaka, and ruffling her clothes and hair, doing the same for the boy. However, a small, piece of material slapped into his face, and he blinked, before picking it off his cheek and unfolding it, studying the contents. Sayaka's eyes went wide. It was an extremely valuable currency note. She expected him to be shocked, amazed, or excited. Instead, he just shrugged it off and pocketed the note. Obviously, it wasn't the first time it had occurred to him.

 _"I heard that he's won every single lottery ticket he's ever bought!" One of them said urgently, staring as the brunette had ducked down, inadvertently dodging a paper airplane that had been thrown down the hallway. Another of them nodded, before adding in another rumour of her own. "I heard that he's never lost a game of Pachinko!"_

The boy glanced up in slight surprise, before withdrawing an umbrella from his backpack. Sayaka blinked. The weather forecast had dictated clear skies and a warm temperature, and, if Sayaka looked up, there was barely any clouds in the sky, and the ones that were had a white shade, with a fluffy texture.

 _"_ _There's gotta be something more to it than luck, right? I bet he's not lucky at all; he just plans everything to look like that. Or maybe he cheated the system." A boy muttered in disbelief, watching as the boy's figure began to compress, signifying that he was getting further and further away. "It can't just be luck. I refuse to believe that," He said resoundingly._

Sayaka took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to walk up to him. She closed her eyes. Inhale. Exhale. She opened her eyes once more, the brunette boy still oblivious to her presence.

 _"_ _Wonder how much that asshole's robbed other people of their stuff, just with his stupid luck," Another boy wondered, a bit of contempt and envy to his tone, as the brunette had nearly disappeared from view. "I bet he's cheated people out of millions!" He exaggerated, his eyes wide._

With a confident swagger to her gait, she began walking up towards the boy, who was still hunched over on the steps, seemingly taking a great interest in the crumbly blacktop that his feet were positioned over. As she approached, however, her steps faltered, and she grounded to a halt. What was she supposed to talk about, anyways? His good slash bad luck? His status as an outcast? The weather? She, belatedly, realized that she had nothing to begin a conversation about.

 _"_ _Tch, I bet his luck is all just a lie. He probably just cheated the system, or something, and made the lie to cover everything up. That's all he it. A cheater," One final girl said, her face pulled into a scowl. Sayaka had enough. She shut her backpack, and began walking silently, following the same direction that the brunette had gone. Her friends, however, took notice, and one decided to speak up._

 _"Hey, Sayaka-chan, where are you going?!" They called after her, an airy, detached tone tone to her voice. Sayaka grit her teeth, as she turned, her face twitching slightly in an attempt not to look like she was about to stab someone._

 _"Oh, I'm just getting ready to go to the next class, why?" She asked. Her friend giggled, before rushing over._

 _"Why didn't you say so, silly? I'll come with you!" She said excitedly, pulling Sayaka's arm and dragging her along, not giving the blue-haired girl a chance to protest. Sayaka could only be dragged along helplessly into their classroom, even if it wasn't what she wanted to do. Her chance was wasted, and she'd have to try again later._

A sudden rumbling snapped Sayaka out of her thoughts, and she stared up at the skies, her eyes suddenly going wide. In the minutes that she'd taken to contemplate her situation, and reflect on the boy, a group of stormy, cumulonimbus clouds began to congregate in front of the sun, and it began thundering. Rain was approaching, and fast, and Sayaka was caught off guard. She left her umbrella at her house, and she had no protective clothing to cover herself. She scrambled around, searching for any cover, but the architecture of the neighbourhood had no scaffolding or any sort of blockade, nor any doors that she could run to in time. She felt the first drops of rain begin to drop on her, as a rustling sound, signalling a harder downpour, echoed in the distance. She quickly put her hands over her head, in a vain attempt to prevent herself from getting wet.

Then the skies decided to dump the rain on her, in gratuitous waves. The loud clicking of the rain splattered on the ground, and all around Sayaka.

Wait. All around her?

Sayaka quickly looked up, where a white, canvas umbrella was held above her head, preventing the rain from soaking her thoroughly. She followed the canvas all the way to the center, then down the metal pole, and to stare at the boy holding the umbrella in the first place.

Emerald eyes stared at her curiously, cautiously, and his brown hair blew in the wind. The infamous 'Lucky Bastard'. Sayaka nearly flinched, but managed to shove the thoughts into the recesses of her mind, before sighing.

"Thanks," She said gratefully. The boy was silent, preferring not to speak. The rain hitting the umbrella and the ground was all the noise that Sayaka heard. Realizing that the 'Lucky Bastard' wouldn't speak much, she decided to take charge of the conversation. "Why'd you have an umbrella, anyways? It was clear, y'know," She noted, which, again, garnered silence. However, after a while, he spoke, if only a whispery tone.

"...I just thought it would rain," He muttered, his gaze cast far away, and refusing to meet hers. Sayaka was a bit annoyed, but she kept her negative emotions in check. He had no positive experiences with other people, and she could tell he was uncomfortable next to her. She yawned in an embellished fashion.

"Well, thanks again for the umbrella. My name's Sayaka Maizono," She introduced herself, and the boy's green eyes went wide. He recognized the name. After all, who wouldn't recognize the name of one of the most popular students in their school? However, he didn't draw the umbrella away, for fear of looking rude or spiteful. Deciding to press forward, she spoke once more. "What's your name?"

He didn't answer, preferring to just listen to the clattering of the heavy rain. Sayaka's heart fell- was she too pushy with him?- but she didn't show these emotions. Instead, she just delegated herself to listening to the rain as well, noting its oddly calming effect. After a while, he spoke once more, in a hoarse tone, convincing Sayaka that she'd succeeded.

"Makoto Naegi."

* * *

 **Y'know I was gonna release this tomorrow but decided "eh, screw it." Thus the late night (in my timezone, anyways) update.  
You thought I was gonna write something edgy and dark about extramarital affairs, right? Hell no. I don't think that neither Sayaka nor Makoto **_**could**_ **cheat, if presented with the possibility. As off-kilter as Sayaka's mental state can get, or as dark as Makoto can get, I don't think either of them could live with the guilt of leaving their lover behind, or dealing with the secret that they cheated on someone. Remember, Sayaka** _ **wrote**_ **her murderer's name on the wall in order to save Makoto from suspicion in the subsequent trial, as she didn't want to deal with the guilt of knowing she would inadvertently send Makoto to his death.  
When I saw the word Cheat, I instantly knew I wanted to subvert the expectations of anyone reading, so I didn't want to make the chapter about romantic relationships whatsoever. The idea of relating it to Makoto's luck instantly struck me, and I decided to write about the negative side of Makoto's luck, such as the envy, disbelief, and ostracization of something that appeared unnatural. It's human nature to fear the unknown, after all.  
This is a more platonic one-shot, with not really much of a romantic subtext, but the possibility for expansion. This was mainly supposed to be Sayaka reaching out to a pariah Makoto, and no romantic relationship whatsoever. But, like I said, it has the room to grow, which is the reason I cut it off so short, giving the sense of being incomplete. Perhaps I'll explore it afterwards in a future chapter, but who knows?  
Also dear god this chapter was annoying to format. It just wouldn't listen to my instructions. Regardless, I managed to get it working.**  
 **cheat  
: to break a rule or law usually to gain an advantage at something  
: to take something from (someone) by lying or breaking a rule  
: to prevent (someone) from having something that he or she deserves or was expecting to get**


	5. Transparent

**(Hilarious story, My modem decided to randomly fry itself on Wednesday, leaving me without any means of uploading this chapter. The internet was fixed earlier today, so I decided to upload this. To make up for the week-long absence, I'll upload the next chapter tomorrow  
**

 **Regardless, thank you all for your reviews and favourites!)**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Transparent  
Rating: T**

Makoto Naegi was always called transparent.

Some called it describing the obvious about him. Other, more sympathetic people, called it a cruel joke. Makoto called it a name that would haunt him for four years, ruthlessly thrown at him like there was no tomorrow. People often called him transparent, simply because that's what he was, mentally speaking. He was open with others. He was honest. He was easy to understand. It was as if his mind was fully broadcasted to others. It was as if his private thoughts weren't really private.

Honestly, Makoto called it stupid. Why was he being singled out? There wasn't anything wrong with him. He was a bit easy to read, sure, but that didn't give people grounds to harass him. Was it his scrawny build? Was it that people simply weren't creative enough to pick out other targets? Makoto didn't know. He would later find out from others that his honesty was grating to others, which was still pushing the grounds for such ruthless bullying.

Nevertheless, it hurt. It was tough being constantly attacked every school day. The verbal harassment was bad, sure, but what hurt more was the things that were spoken about him behind his back. At least the people who told him what they thought of him were being upfront with it; they weren't hiding anything, pretending to like him. The people who spoke behind his back inadvertently gained the trust of the boy who had little companionship, and knocked it down.

Trust was an easy thing to break, but hard to rebuild. Makoto didn't trust easily anymore. He was always cautious about people who approached him, sans his girlfriend, his childhood best friend, and his family. No one got into his trust circle easily, not anymore. He learned from his first year at this school.

However, even with the little friends he had, he was still saddened. Why was he always the one being put under? Why was he the one subjected to such harassment? It was disheartening to him. Sometimes his tears threatened to spill, but he managed to keep under wraps.

"Moping again?"

Makoto glanced up in dull surprise at the figure who was standing above his slumped figure. A girl with dark blue hair and a sailor's female uniform stood in front of him, her ocean blue eyes scanning his face. She clicked her tongue in resignation, before drawing up a chair and seating herself. She leaned in, pressing her face closer to his. He could feel her hot breath brush his nose.

"It's not good for you, Makoto-kun," She worried, brushing a pale hand through his brown hair. Makoto cracked a small grin, but didn't argue against her. His mind might've been visible to anyone, but his disposition and mood was especially visible to Sayaka Maizono, who made it a habit to guess as many things as she could. This included Makoto's troubles. For a year, her inner empathy had struggled against her popularity, debating over which was more urgent: A random boy whom she barely knew, or the school life that she had built up for herself.

Her empathy won.

She delegated herself to looking after the boy, which had stopped a few of the harassers, though they would soon return as Sayaka's popularity dropped, when her status was still meaningful. Makoto wasn't picky about his friends, though he was cautious. He would watch her with a hawk-eye gaze for a few weeks, though he tried to mask it. Eventually, he realized she wasn't joking, and embraced her presence immediately and wholeheartedly, seemingly clinging to her at any point. Sayaka, however, wasn't annoyed by his actions. Rather, she found it endearing, and a bit cute at the same time.

It wasn't a surprise when they realized their affections for each other. Makoto made a vow not to leave her, which melted her heart, and she knew she wouldn't have the heart to turn him down, nor desert him afterwards. Now all she had to do was to make sure that Makoto wouldn't go off the deep end.

This was both easy and hard for her, as she had to deal with his pitiable attitude. However, the difficulty of this task was diluted by his sheer mental transparency. It was as if he lacked a cool façade that most people had, giving him an innocent look of sorts.

"C'mon, Makoto-kun, chin up now," She said, poking the boy's cheeks in a goofy manner. Makoto glanced down briefly, before looking up again.

"Sorry, Sayaka-chan. It's just... I was thinking-"

"About how unfair this school has been to you?" She finished. Makoto remained silent, his form of agreement. This wasn't the first time Sayaka had completed his thoughts, and it wouldn't be the last. Sayaka sighed. "I'm sorry for not helping you sooner, but I don't think you can't help that. The only thing to do now is to try and ignore them," She finished. Makoto glanced off, where a group of teenagers were all laughing raucously. Sayaka could see Makoto stewing his thoughts around, and she smiled. "Hey, I know what will cheer you up. Let's go grab some snacks," She motioned for the boy to stand up, which he complied. As Makoto stood up, Sayaka quickly pressed a fast kiss to his lips, sending him spinning, a blush on his face. Sayaka giggled at his confounded reaction, before grabbing his hand and dragging him away.

Makoto Naegi was transparent, but sometimes that wasn't a bad thing.

* * *

 **Ugh. I'll be honest, what happened to me in Subtle happened again, the dreaded writer's block, although it came back** _ **much**_ **harder than it hit me in Subtle. I just simply couldn't think of a proper theme that's associated with the prompt word. I tried writing in every single way I could think of, juggling in between making it about Makoto's personality, or about ghosts. Finally, I decided to go with the former, and write a short chapter as best as I could. As for the chapter itself, I figured that some parts of Makoto's personality, especially brutal honesty, could attract negative attention from others, and his musings on it. It borrows a bit from my previous chapters, I'll admit, but I couldn't do much about that. A bit of fluff between the two, and that concludes the chapter.  
Why was this chapter so hard to write? It was extremely short, even for my standards. Even my author's note is suffering from it. Regardless, next chapter will be much better, and long.**  
 **transparent  
: able to be seen through  
: easy to notice or understand  
: honest and open : not secretive**


	6. Believable

**(Man, last chapter kinda bugged me. Anyways, this one is a smidge better, in terms of quality. Thanks again for your favourites and reviews, everyone!)  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Believable  
Rating: T**

"N-no, Kaze-san, I do not have a boyfriend."

Sayaka frowned. It still seemed off, somehow. Perhaps it was the way her voice cracked at the end, or her oddly shrill tone, which was a stretch, even for her. Either way, it wasn't a good attempt. Time to try again.

"No, K-kaze-san, I d-do not have a boyfriend."

That was even worse. Her voice peaked randomly, and her stuttering was more pronounced. Once more, she took a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. She spoke to the mirror once more.

"No, Ka-kaze-san, I don't h-have a boyfriend."

Sayaka slapped her cheeks in aggravation and frustration, which she accentuated with a growl of annoyance. Why was it so hard just to say one sentence? She'd spoken and sung so many more sentences and lies, yet why was this was giving her so much trouble? It was absurd.

Sighing, Sayaka collapsed onto her bed, deciding not to pursue it further; not without a break, anyways. She deserved some well-needed rest anyways. It was tiresome to put on her façade all the time, and she needed a break. She stared at the popcorn ceiling that roofed her room, and she relaxed her body, beginning to let her thoughts drift away. The idol life was a far-cry from what she expected, staring at the television when she was nine and watching the girls prance around the stage, singing to their heart's content. In fact, that's what she fully expected to happen. Just pure, innocent fun.

Her expectations were destroyed fairly quickly. She experienced many things that were horrible to the eyes. Many things that she didn't want to recount. Many, horrible things. It was both detrimental and helpful to Sayaka's psyche. On one hand, she quickly learned the brutality of the idol business, and what to expect. On the other, it ruined her innocence and trust in adults. She rapidly learned that people almost always had their own agenda; an ulterior motive, per se, and that almost no one truly liked her. The few exceptions she could make for this were her own family, and not much more than that.

In succinct terms, she hated the idol business. The backstabbing, the hate, and the lengths that people would go through to make sure they came on top, and the idols themselves were merely pawns. She became jaded as a result. She never brought these to light; god forbid an idol have negative moments, but in her own mind, she hated them.

With a sigh, she glumly transitioned her thoughts to Makoto Naegi, the bright spot of her life.

Makoto was, in a sense, four things to her. Passive-agressive revenge against the rules set out by her agents, solace and relief from the public, a listening ear, and an object of her affections. It was an odd thing to think of her secret boyfriend as such, but it was how Sayaka unconsciously labelled him.

You see, Sayaka was forbidden from ever _officially_ gaining a relationship. Her agents had pressed this into her mind multiple times, on a near daily basis. No boyfriend. They had to maintain the image of _Maizono-san's purity,_ or something stupid like that. Personally, she found the rule to be frivolous, and idiotic. Why should people care about who she dated? She was a teenage girl. She should be allowed to do this. Make mistakes. Have her heart broken. But, because she was an idol, she couldn't. She would forever be a virgin, dating or otherwise.

Feh, Sayaka could care less about what her agents thought.

When she first saw Makoto releasing that crane, she unknowingly lost her heart that day. Lost it to the brunette boy, who probably didn't even know of the enormity of what he'd just done. All he'd done was care for an injured bird, but he'd unknowingly caught the eye of the number one sensation of his entire region. She wasn't sure why she fell for him as hard as she did, but it had happened. Determined not to let the boy go, she introduced himself right away, demanding to be kept in touch. Makoto was too astonished to say otherwise, and it took him approximately two minutes to shake him out of his astonishment in order for him to recognize Sayaka Maizono, who was his sister's literal idol. By then, Sayaka had managed to slap a pale hand over his mouth, hushing him, and by then Makoto's inner intuition had kicked in and he realized his situation, as well as Sayaka's. She, obviously, wasn't supposed to be there. In any case, the mutual attraction was there, fostered gently over dozens of small meetups, and peaked when Makoto finally asked to pursue their relationship farther.

Sayaka had accepted immediately.

Of course, she didn't realize the consequences and harm that was potentially brought onto Makoto's life. She only realized a few days afterwards that revealing their relationship wouldn't be a good idea. There were millions of admirers who harboured a crush on the blue-haired teenager. If it was made public that cutesy, innocent, beautiful Sayaka Maizono had a boyfriend, the backlash and threats towards Makoto would be huge. There might've been actual harm attempts or attacks, as well. Thus, she decided to keep it under wraps, keeping their relationship a secret. Makoto knew this, and he didn't care. As long as he knew the truth, then it was all fine.

Truth be told, Sayaka was kind of grateful of her decision too. Because Makoto had, quite literally, zero attention on him, no one would be hounding him, nor would there be any suspicious eyes peering in on them. Thus, when Sayaka was feeling too stressed or under the weather, she'd sneak out to his house, where his wise parents and younger sister decided not to reveal that she had been dating Makoto, or visiting them. It was relaxing and refreshing, just hanging out with the Naegi's, and it helped to prevent her from going off the deep end.

Some of that stress relief included rants, mostly on Sayaka's part. Sometimes it would do her some good to just vent about her frustrations. Whether it was her fellow groupies, which was rare, her agency, which came up often, her fans, or her music writers. Nothing was safe from Sayaka's ranting, and Makoto patiently listened throughout her venting. When all was said in done, he even swore to secrecy, which was a very nice thing to do, as she didn't have to worry about Makoto spouting anything to anyone.

Sayaka sighed as all these memories crashed into her memories simultaneously, giving her a brief feeling of being overwhelmed. She really didn't deserve Makoto's patience and understanding; she was entirely selfish in her feelings, and Makoto didn't stand to gain anything from remaining at her side; yet it's what he chose to do. She was still a bit disheartened that she had to lie about not dating anyone. Perhaps in a few years, or in a different life, things would've been different, but not this one.

Taking a deep breath, Sayaka pulled herself up from her bed, before standing up and staring her reflection once more in her eye. She had to do this. Once more, from the top. Make it believable. Her mouth opened, and, in her mind's eye, she could see Makoto smile in the reflection.

"No, Kaze-san, I don't have a boyfriend."

* * *

 **Oh hey, a bit of a different chapter. One that actually doesn't look like it was run over by a car.  
This time, I actually have Sayaka's idol life interfere with her romantic life, and her personal thoughts and lamentations on the ruthless and cutthroat people that she deals with. I believe that Sayaka's life can be paralleled to a child actor's life. Everything she does is in the critical eye of the public. Any screw up, relationship, or really anything she does will come under fire by the public. It really puts a strain on her mindset to appear as perfect as possible. Thus, lies and fibs should come to her easily, at the expense of her emotional and mental state. It's why she first fell in love with Makoto in the first place, in my opinion anyways. She's raised under a group where backstabbing and ruthlessness was the norm. When she saw Makoto care for a crane without any care for repercussions or ulterior motives, it truly moved her. This was a boy who, in her eyes, was so genuine and honest that it was almost unbelievable, a far cry from the idol business, which had more knives to the back than the Spy from Team Fortress 2. Thus, she clung to him, and their relationship grew, and most likely would've grown farther had she not been rudely stabbed by someone.  
Anyways, about the chapter itself. This was mainly about Sayaka's thoughts on her idol life, and how it interfered with her newfound relationship with Makoto, and how exhausting it would be on her mental capacity. Rather proud of how this chapter turned out, even if the idea isn't entirely new. All of Sayaka's thoughts bundled neatly and concisely.  
believable  
: capable of being believed, especially as within the range of known possibility or probability**


	7. Repeat

**(With this chapter comes 10k words! I honestly didn't think I'd get this far. Thanks again for your reviews, follows and favourites!)**

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Repeat  
Rating: T**

Makoto Naegi would always wake up in the same classroom, the steel plates bolted to the door, the classroom smelling like mildew and rotted wood. He would exhale in relief, his earlier thoughts seemingly a nightmare. He'd crack a smile, maybe a few laughs or two, then he'd walk towards the back of the classroom, pick up the pamphlet, and scan in thoroughly.

Then his heart would sink, and he would race out the door, the pamphlet to Hope's Peak Academy gliding in the background. His earlier 'nightmares' a reality. The School of Mutual Killings no longer a dream. He'd sprint into the gymnasium, and he'd encounter all fourteen of his fellow comrades in arms, in their own personal hell. He would listen to Monokuma dictate the rules. He'd quickly form friendships that would never last, due to their quick demises. And, at the end, he'd meet his own, tossed onto a conveyor belt with his classmate, Junko Enoshima, who'd always managed to pull him along for the last leg of the execution, killing him in the process. Then, with a jump, Makoto would wake up in the same classroom, the steel plates bolted to the door, the classroom smelling like mildew and rotted wood, the cycle repeating once more

Makoto remembered when he first started his resets. He'd been confused. Startled. Afraid. He spent the first loop a paranoid wreck, barely interacting with others, aside from the timid Chihiro Fujisaki, whose conversations were lucky to surpass one word. Surprisingly, the game had lasted a few days longer without a death, as Sayaka had to find an entirely different person to latch to, being Leon Kuwata. However, Makoto paid no heed to the pair, his thoughts entirely focused on trying to pick apart his situation.

Unfortunately, this lead to end of his first loop. Chihiro had been secretly been murdered in the middle of the night a few days in, most likely due to his timid nature. No one knew who to accuse, and Sayaka was the only person willing to take charge of the investigation; Kyoko Kirigiri was too entrained in her own personal agenda to care, Byakuya Togami was simply being an asshole, and Makoto was too paranoid and soft-spoken to aid in the investigation. In the end, Makoto's soft-spoke behaviour was the end of both him and the rest of the class. Without many leads, they focused their efforts on Makoto, who was the closest to the cross-dressing boy. Combining that with his lackadaisical defense, and the others were quick to cast their votes in his direction, with the exception of Sayaka, who refused to believe that her childhood classmate could pull off such a ruthless task.

In the end, Sayaka was right. Celestia Ludenberg was the actual culprit of Chihiro's death, after they cast their votes. Monokuma had voiced its disapproval of their ignorance, before quickly executing them, sans Celestia. Right afterwards, Makoto had woken up right back in his own classroom, the memories of his previous loops fresh in his mind. He quickly realized, with his analytical mind, that he was currently experiencing time travel, on a massive scale, and he was the only one to fully be knowledgeable about it. At first, he was confused about what he had to accomplish- it had taken him another death, caused by an opportunistic Togami, for him to begin experimenting. His first hypothesis was to save his comrades.

That... that took at least a few dozen loops. Trying to emulate his first experience, it took him at least seven times to successfully save Sayaka from Leon, by convincing her not to go through with her murder attempt. However, in that, he'd neglected the others, and Chihiro was quickly slaughtered by Celestia once more, sending him back to the first day. It took him at least fourteen more attempts to save both Chihiro and Sayaka, without the other dying in the process, before Makoto remembered Mukuro, who was under the guise of Junko. He quickly expanded his plan to save all three of them, but that in and of itself was a monumental task. It took him twenty-two more attempts afterwards to save all three of them, and by that point, Makoto was starting to feel tuckered out.

It was difficult to contain all the information in your head, trying to save all of your friends. It was tiresome to watch your change work for a few moments, before being shot down by another unforeseen occurrence, and, frankly, Makoto was growing increasingly detached at the various gory deaths. He'd seen it all, by this point. Blunt force trauma, stab wounds, pulverization, defenestration, suicide attempts. All of them were witnessed by Makoto, who unfortunately stumbled onto most crime scenes, and all of them had bad influences on his psyche. He became increasingly distant to the trauma, and it began to lose its effect on him. Frankly, almost everything he experienced was losing its effect on him. He'd gone through so many secret confessions from Chihiro, revealing his gender. He'd experienced many different types of admittance to his accidental manslaughter of his brother from Mondo Oowada. He'd felt happiness, sadness, fear, love, every spectrum of emotion. The only problem was that he was experiencing them from the same stimuli. He'd been confessed to so many times by Sayaka, which he eagerly returned in his first few loops of that occurrence. He'd felt many cases of sadness. He had felt the fear of losing his loved ones. He'd felt the infatuation of his first kiss, which Sayaka had planted on him on the fifth day. He'd felt so much so many times over that they were all losing effect on him.

This loop, his 200th one, Makoto just stopped caring.

He realized that the loop would only start once more with his death. This loop, his objective was simple: survive. He shouldn't care about saving Sayaka, Chihiro, Leon, Mondo, or anyone else. All he should care about was getting himself through this crisis, without and attempt at interfering. All that should matter was his own survival.

With this thought, he pushed the double doors open into the gymnasium, walking in moments afterwards.

* * *

Sayaka Maizono couldn't help but feel something was off as she conversed with Junko Enoshima. She find herself unconsciously completing the fashionista's sentences in her mind, despite this being, in her experience, the first time that they'd ever met. The layout of the school would seem distinctly familiar to her, despite the fact that it was only her first day at the academy. She knew everyone's names, despite their recent introduction, and she had a feeling that something bad was about to transpire. Slowly, as time went on, she realized what was happening.

Time travel.

Now, she had no way to physically prove that this was actually happening, only a few leads to go by, which were the haunting memories and emotions she felt when she saw various objects and people. Looking at Leon Kuwata made her a bit envious, a bit angry, and a bit fearful. Staring at Byakuya Togami made her contemptuous and angry. Staring at Kyoko Kirigiri elicited displeasure and a bit of disapproval. In each case, there was no reason for her to do so, since they'd only just met. Her only other viable guess was her memory loss slowly returning to her, but that didn't explain how she knew of conversations that would happen, before they actually happened. Thus, due to Sayaka's rather open mindset, her next guess was time travel.

However, this left a new question: how?

How were people time traveling? Who was the traveler, anyways, and why were they doing it? Was it even intentional? Sayaka shook her head, keeping her eyes attuned to different students. Her eyes flitted from student to student. However, no one caught her eye. No one setting off her radar.

The double doors creaked open loudly, squeaking in a harsh manner that grated on her ears, and she recoiled in response. The loud, raspy sound directed all attention towards the door, as another student walked nonchalantly into the room. He had brown hair, an olive hooded sweater, and black pants, and his emerald eyes were dulled and boring.

Instantly, Sayaka was slammed by memories and feelings pertaining to the boy. Hanging out with him. Eating together. Gifts, bad jokes, promises, and sweet nothings exchanged between them. Horror being diluted by his grasp. His own repulsion being consoled by her warm embrace. Staring into emerald eyes filled with hope and longing, and wanting to protect them. The sudden feeling of her heart beating faster, threatening to burst out of her chest. Her cheeks slowly growing warm at the sight of him, her disposition growing shy. One sunset, they were alone. A vow to protect each other was exchanged between them, before delving into silence once more. When they'd returned to meet each others' eyes, her blush had intensified. She had seen his cheeks grow equally red. They'd stared into each others eyes, before Sayaka had leaned in, closing the gaps. Her first kiss, taken by the boy, and sending shivers and warmth down her body. The thought was so powerful that it actually sent a real blush onto Sayaka's cheeks, along with sending her physically recoiling. However, above all, the name of the boy blared in her mind.

Makoto Naegi.

Makoto glanced to stare at her with his eyes, and Sayaka shivered. The eyes she was seeing right now were cold, dead, and uncaring. The ones she remembered were so full of life. What had happened to him? Sayaka resolved to find out why, as he began being swarmed by the other fifteen students.

Makoto yawned monotonously as he leaned against the cafeteria table, a cinnamon roll held in his hand, a few bites taken out of the pastry. The rules of the game had just been explained to them, and now all of them had been dispersed to try and locate anything worthwhile of noticing, or anything interesting to take. Makoto, however, delegated himself to simply just relaxing in the cafeteria, alone. The cafeteria was silent, and only Makoto's thoughtful chewing was heard. He sighed, before deciding to glance at his E-book, to the picture of the entire class. This would probably be the last time he would see the entire class alive.

"A- _hem_."

Makoto pushed down the E-book from his view, staring up in dull surprise. Sayaka Maizono stared at him, her arms linked behind her, resting at her posterior. She had a curious look playing on her face, as she scrutinized his face. The memories of his previous relationship with her unconsciously gnawed at his heart, causing it to ache, but he forced it down. He wouldn't save or kill anyone, and, by doing that, he knew that she would die first. Still, he played the part.

"Hello, Sayaka-san, it's nice to see you again, after middle school," He said in a complete monotone. He blinked, before he exhaled in resignation. So much for playing the part convincingly. Nevertheless, Sayaka went with what he said.

"Nice to see you again, Makoto-kun," She replied, taking a seat beside the sunken brunette, studying every reaction he made, which she could count on her fingers. Makoto sighed, returning back to the E-book, flipping through it nonchalantly, as Sayaka watched on in interest. Unbeknownst to Makoto, his familiarity with the small piece of technology only cemented Sayaka's suspicions; how would Makoto know how to use it? It was deceptively complicated, and would take a lot of practice, yet he was going through it effortlessly. Taking a deep breath, Sayaka decided to ask the question that would either confirm or deny her suspicions for good.

"Makoto-kun, what loop are you on?"

Makoto froze immediately at the words spoken by the blue-haired idol, and he visibly and audible reacted to it. His body stiffened immediately, and his eyes just as quickly stopped scanning the information that was displayed on the E-book, and Sayaka had a triumphant smirk on her face, which segwayed immediately into concern. If Makoto had been going through this day many times, then it would have pretty harsh reprecussions on Makoto's mind. Sighing in defeat, Makoto turned to the girl.

"Two hundredth, I think. I lost count," Makoto admitted tiredly, taking another bite out of the cinnamon roll. Sayaka blanched, shocked at the revelation. Makoto had been going through this day _two hundred_ times?! No wonder he looked so defeatedly. Makoto laughed bitterly at her stunned silence, deciding to begin speaking. "It's utter hell, Sayaka-san, going through this death game. I've been trying to save everyone from dying, and it's been painful," He said in a raw tone, his body beginning to tremble. Sayaka could only watch helplessly as he kept on going. "Sayaka-san, I've seen people die so many times, in as many different ways as I can think of. I've gone through hundreds of trials, of the same people, over and over again. I've seen you die so many times, no matter what I do. Even if you survive, Chihiro or Mukuro is killed in the process, and that's only as far as I've got! It's," Makoto choked out a few sobs, as his eyes began growing cloudy. "It's... just too hard... I was just going to try and survive by myself this time, without any regard to you, Chihiro, or anyone else," Makoto's tears began streaming down his cheeks, as the floodgates burst. Two hundred loops of trauma and seeing his progress repeatedly fall apart was finally taking its toll on the brunette, and it hit him like a truck, all the tears flowing forward at once.

Silently, Sayaka slid closer to the brunette, sliding an arm around his shoulders, and pulling him closer to her, as he began emptying his tear ducts into her shoulder, as Sayaka whispered soothingly into his ears, gently rubbing his back. As Makoto's sobs tapered off into dull sniffles, she sighed.

"So, Makoto-kun, what do you plan to do?" She asked gently, detaching the boy from her embrace. Makoto sniffed once more, before shrugging.

"I'm not sure, I'll have to think about my ideas," He said, glancing back down. Sayaka giggled, before nuzzling into Makoto's body.

"Well, be sure to ask for my help in the next loops," She advised, "I've picked it up once already, I'll pick it up again," She planted a kiss on his temple, and Makoto couldn't help but simultaneously grin and blush simultaneously, a newfound glimmer of hope entering his eyes and expression.

He's went through at least two hundred repeats of today. Once more, with Sayaka's help, couldn't hurt.

* * *

 **Peggy Sue, thy name is Makoto. Yeah, I didn't really have many more options. I had another idea, but I scrapped it because it would be a long story that would quickly grow drudging and tiresome. Ergo, I went the 'time travel' route, aka the Peggy Sue fanfiction, and this idea was born. Honestly, I'm a fan of certain types of Peggy Sue fanfictions. My personal criteria of what makes a good Peggy Sue fanfiction is unpredictability, accurate emotional portrayals, and the human element. What I mean by this is that while the traveler has knowledge of what happens in their own timeline, they subsequently lose control of what will happen next, only going off by instinct, and will deal with their situation emotionally correctly. A very good example of this is the anime Erased, which I highly recommend you check out. It's very nice, and well constructed.** _ **However**_ **, the prompt of 'repeat' also gains a haunting other example in this chapter, being the repeat stimuli that Makoto experiences on a near-weekly basis.  
As for the chapter itself... it's a small excerpt from a Peggy Sue plot, with a bit of character inspiration from separate sources. That's really it. I have no interest in pursuing the story further beyond this point, outside of a possible in-story sequel chapter. I dunno. It was a bit awkward to write Sayaka as the emotional support, but it's a bit of a changeup from the usual, where Makoto is usually the emotional 'rock', of sorts. This chapter also kind of highlights my main struggles with long chapters: The quality slowly begins dipping around the end, as it grows a bit more rushed. It's why my chapters are usually 1000-2000 words long.  
Oh, and I'll admit, I got parts of this idea from ClearlyOriginal's fanfiction "Danganronpa Conspiracy Theories", an amusing little bundle. Give it a look if you have the time; it's a fun read. In particular, I got parts of the time-traveling ideas from his theory that Hagakure was a time traveler, alongside the idea that Maizono eventually realizes the time-travel stuff. Again, go ahead and read it if you have the time. I promise you'll at least be entertained for a while.  
repeat  
: an occurrence in which something happens or is done again  
: something that happens or is done again  
: someone who does something again**


	8. Addicted

**Chapter 8: Addicted  
Rating: T  
**-

One whiff, one taste, is all it takes to become addicted.

Makoto laughed at the words anti-alcoholism advertisement, which had been plastered to the brick wall of the train station, though for the wrong reason. The words, while completely true for alcoholism, had another connotation for Makoto. One a bit more pure, but nevertheless ironic.

He was addicted to the feeling of love.

Cheesy, schmaltzy, fluffy, however you wanted to put it, that's what Makoto felt. The sheer sentiment of infatuation, coursing through his veins, was a feeling that he compared to being on Cloud 9. Sheer ecstasy, one that couldn't be matched or ever described. You could only experience the sensation, not describe it. And once you've experienced it once, you became hooked on the feeling, because it truly eclipsed all previous sensations that you'd experienced. Makoto felt confident that the emotion was unmatched, and it could, quite possibly, be the best feeling of earth. He often had a warm, silly grin on his face, and an air of happiness around him, that persisted, refusing to remove itself.

His friends soon questioned him about why the bright grin was on his face, and he'd reply the same time, each time. He fell in love, and his greatest dreams had finally been realized. Those who didn't understand just walked away, a confused look on their face. Those that _did_ understand broke into a grin, congratulated him, then proceeded to ask who it was, only to be denied further. However, the sheer bliss on Makoto's face often told them that it was a happy one, and they backed off, content to watch the rather lonely boy feel the experience of love for the first time.

Still, was such a feeling all that positive? Makoto was optimistic, yes, but he wasn't naive. He knew the dangerous repercussions about love, and how it lead people to do stupid thing. He heard many tales of people who put too much love into one person. Those tales never ended well, from Makoto's memory. Heartbreak, suicide, depression. Each and every tale was riddled with despair and sadness. He had heard multiple stories, all from different sources, about these stories all taking a turn for the worse. He even watched some of these take place before his very eyes. He knew that he didn't want to end up like that, and vowed to try and not have his heart broken. Yet, despite this, he was doing the same thing. Was it stupid of him to knowingly and purposefully make a mistake he wished he would never make? He'd wager so.

Truth be told, Makoto didn't care. It was a good feeling, even if it was dangerous.

The feelings of bliss that he was experiencing currently were worth it. They were worth the potential dangers of it. Just to feel that one sentiment of pure joy and optimism. It was almost as if it took precedence in his mind, taking priority over everything else he felt. He would do a lot to feel it more. It was dangerous to feel that way, Makoto knew, but it was how he felt.

Perhaps it wasn't such a farfetched idea to call his feeling a sense of addiction.

Chuckling, Makoto shook his head free of the thoughts. It was good to go off into philosophical, questioning mood, but it wasn't good to overwork it. Thinking too much might permanently alter his mindset, and that wouldn't be the best state to put himself in. The train roared into the station, further cutting the brunette from his thinking. He blinked, before focusing on the various doors. The reason why he was here had finally arrived. He was waiting for a certain guest to appear from the train doors, which had opened in the meantime. Various people began filing out the train cars, melding with the crowd of onlookers already watching, as people spotted who they were looking for and began chatting with them, beginning to walk away. Makoto watched the cars calmly, the crowds beginning to dissipate.

A flutter in the wind caught his eye, and he turned his body to stare, where the last car was opened up, a few people trickling out of the car. What caught his eye in particular was a white sunhat was bouncing in the wind, placed on top of a girl's head, her blue hair blowing softly, and her eyes obscured by sunglasses. Makoto grinned, as he slowly glided over towards the figure, slowly, yet carefully, so his presence wouldn't be ousted. Soon, he was right behind the girl, who was glancing around, scanning the horizon, trying to find someone. A coy smile on his face, Makoto tapped the girl's shoulder gently.

The girl turned around, startled, and with a frown plastered on her face, though it quickly relaxed as she took in his features, as Makoto delved into snickering silently.

"You scared me, Makoto-kun," She said, exhaling in relief. Makoto pouted, a false look of hurt on her face.

"I'm hurt that you would think of me as scary," He said, a false amount of hate in his voice. The girl sniffed in return, before shaking her head, grabbing Makoto's hand. He felt his heartbeat quicken, and he couldn't help but let a small smile play on his lips. Sayaka Maizono smiled.

"Whatever, Makoto-kun. Anyways, how's life here been going since I went on tour?" She questioned, her voice in a low whisper so she didn't attract attention to herself. Makoto laughed, before beginning to delve into a long list, his cheeks tinged red, and the blissful feeling returning to his body.

He felt it, once more.

"Well, you see..."

* * *

 **Alright, a little bit of an addendum, since this occurred after I wrote this chapter. Yes, I write chapters ahead of time, fight me about it.  
In any case, I've received a new computer, since my birthday occurred sometime prior to today. It took me a few days to get used to an entirely new operating system and controls, plus I had to transfer a bunch of stuff from computer to computer, so... yeah. Chapter time should speed up, at least a marginal amount.  
**

* * *

 **I implore one of you to please hit me with a bus.  
This chapter was something else. Bluntly put, this prompt word was... ****_sketchy_** **. So many negative connotations and ideas associated with the word, it was as if I was traversing a minefield. I wasn't going to write something disturbingly realistic, for fear of being called out for writing it improperly, because I've had a good childhood, with competent (if a bit old fashioned) parents, and have had no experience or knowledge with the shady aspects, outside the few books in my library that I, admittedly, used more commonly to plant in peoples' backpacks to set off the alarm, or to use as a blunt object. Anyways, due to the sheer derogatory word, I knew that this chapter was going to be at** ** _least_** **a bit sleazy, but this.. this is something else. I don't know why, but this chapter... it** ** _bugs_** **me. The same way that Eternal bugged me. The same way that Transparent bugged me. Please don't let this become a trend. Regardless, the next chapter should be better, since I have a more encompassing word to use.  
Chapter itself... More of Makoto's philosophical rambling. This Makoto is a tad more... obsessed with Sayaka, though he still possesses the same laid back demeanour. Really, I couldn't write this chapter with** ** _out_** **making the character at least seem a bit off, since both characters are pretty normal otherwise, and don't really display an unhealthy obsession that I could use to properly write them in. (Danganronpa 2, however would be a different story. You probably know who I'm talking about). Anyways, obsessing over something is very dangerous, obviously, and Makoto's reflecting on that. However, he also feels the sense of helplessness associated with addiction. The feeling of trying to do something, but simply not being able to do it.  
I'll leave it off with a reiteration. Please run me over with a bus.  
addicted  
: devoted or surrendered (oneself) to something habitually or obsessively**


	9. Write

**Chapter 9: Write  
Rating: K+**

 _Dear Makoto,_

 _Woah, did that really happen? It sounds crazy! Hope you're alright, and not banged up in a hospital. Though, I guess you wouldn't be writing to me so soon, so I'm just going to assume that you're fine._

 _How are Kyoko and Chihiro? Doing fine, I hope. You said they were on better terms than before? Hoho, I sense some romantic tension approaching... Kidding, kidding! Don't tell them that I wrote that, please. I don't want to know what Sherlock Holmes two-point-oh and a teen computer wizard could do to me, a few thousand miles away. I bet it wouldn't be pretty, that's for sure._

 _As for my tour... It's eh. My agent is being a prissy ass (don't tell her I said that), the sights are pretty to see, but I can't get out without my disguise failing on me and getting hounded by the paparazzi. Agh, you won't believe the stuff that people are willing to do to get to me. It's_ crazy! _. If I didn't have your letters, I'd probably lose my head._

 _But, enough about my crazy fans and the stupid press, how's things going over there? High school any fun? Honestly, I was kinda disappointed to hear that I started my touring and stuff this year. I wanted to live a normal life too! Eh, I guess I can't really help it. I did choose this life after all, and I don't think that I can really turn back now. Regardless, I bet highschool's fun, if a bit wonky. How are my old 'friends' doing? Feh, probably forgot all about me. Either that, or they can't stop bragging about how they were friends with the idol Sayaka Maizono. Some friends they were. They didn't even ask for my landline, or anything like that. Man, Makoto, why weren't you my middle school friend?_

 _Egh, I'm dwelling on the past too much. Remind me to stop doing that, please. Anyways, I've got to cut this letter short. My agent's screaming at me to get ready for the concert. Oops! Haha. Anyways, write back as soon as you get the chance!_

 _-Sayaka Maizono_

Makoto Naegi read the letter once more, a look of subdued ebullience on his face. The words, while just marks of ink made on a piece of dead, processed tree, spoke heaps to him. They spoke emotions, of happiness, relief, regret, and sadness. They spoke of the inner thoughts of a girl, five thousand miles away in another country. But, most importantly, they spoke that she still cared about their friendship. That it wasn't just a hopeless, desperate attempt from him, and he had made an impact.

Honestly, he was still surprised that Sayaka accepted his request to remain in contact. They hardly knew each other in school. The most interaction he ever had with her was a seventh grade science experiment, and even then their conversations were limited, as he was too busy trying not to be affected by the daggers were being glared into his back. So, when she accepted the request, he was shocked, to say the least. Happy, but shocked. Why would the idol Sayaka Maizono suddenly care about him? He was simple, plain-faced boy. He honestly wouldn't have been surprised to see him accidentally plastered into a video game, as a simple non-player character, while she could've been the main protagonist.

Nevertheless, it was a pleasant surprise. Sayaka had left to pursue her idol career at the end of junior highschool, taking along the hopes of everyone in their small town, on Hope's Peak, leaving Makoto alone once more. That was a few months ago. Makoto had received a letter nearly every other day from the blue-haired idol, which both impressed and astounded him. Being an idol had weird quirks, he supposed, even though the mail delivery system was largely unaffected by the idol industry. Still, it was refreshing to hear from the girl so often.

Regarding the letter itself. It was mainly filled with banter between the two, bringing each other up to date on what was happening in each others' life. Either Makoto's life, in the small town which he still lived in, or Sayaka, who was currently touring the United Kingdom, singing to her heart's content. They were very contrasting lives, which only added to the interest between them. It was refreshing to hear the much different life, contrasting from the one they had grown accustomed to.

Sighing, Makoto began twirling the ballpoint pen between his fingers, his mind already running overtime. What was he going to say? Responding to the points that she made was an obvious one, but there was a specific point he needed to interject, amidst all the lighthearted, meaningless banter they exchanged.

His infatuation, to be precise.

Truth be told, he'd asked many people how he was going to do it. Most people just shrugged; they didn't have any experience with long distance relationships. The people who _did_ answer often gave roundabout, stupid solutions that didn't exactly make sense to Makoto, which he would keep in the back of his mind. Thus, he was left with only one truly reliable answer, that would net him at least a small chance of success.

Wing it.

Sighing, Makoto glanced down.

Why did he fall for Sayaka? It wasn't remotely a good idea. She was touring, multiple continents away. He was stuck in a small town, with little funds or resources to get out. He was simply the normal kid that you passed by in the hallway. He had no chance, whatsoever. Honestly, Makoto wasn't even sure if he was going to do it in the first place, had Chihiro convinced him to do it, noting that, if he didn't try, he'd regret it.

Makoto's eyes landed on a few sentences that Sayaka had written in ink.

 _"_ _If I didn't have your letters, I'd probably lose my head._

 _Man, Makoto, why weren't you my middle school friend?"_

The two sentences jumped out at Makoto, speeding his heart up slightly. Was it possible that Sayaka could, at least, be fond of Makoto as well? She obviously didn't hate him, or else she would've cut off connection a _long_ time ago, but could it extend farther than that? There was a possibility. It was a sliver of hope, and it was one that could easily be misinterpreted, but Makoto had to leap at the possibility.

It was better than not trying at all, right?

With that newfound resolve, Makoto picked up the pen on his table, and a piece of paper, popping the cap of the pen open, and beginning to write, the wet ink applying itself to the paper, as he began to empty his soul into his words.

 _Dear Sayaka..._

* * *

 **Three consecutive chapters from Makoto's perspective?! What is this?!  
Regardless, this was decidedly ****_much_** **easier to write, since so many different things can be associated with the word "write". I decided to create the story based on the concept of "pen pals", where two people over long distances communicate via sent messages. Aka text messaging, except with a much longer wait between messages. Yeah, if you think the little three dots appearing on the bubble is anxiety-filled, then you don't know the anxiety of waiting for a message to appear in your mailbox. Not that I'd know, considering I had no friends in school. I used a** ** _lot_** **of 2000's references in this, for some reason. Landlines and written letters, preposterous.  
Anyways, bout the chapter itself before I go too out of hand. After deciding that I was going to make the chapter about written letters sent over long distance, I just kinda built it up from there. I wanted to make sure that the chapter would end with Makoto writing a love letter. After a bit of indecision and hesitance, wondering what he should do, he decides to be brave for once, and begin composing a letter professing his feelings. I feel like Makoto was the perfect character to write for this: ordinary and shy, trying to get his point across to a person who's seen as the top cheese. Think of it like writing a love letter to a popular kid, in high school. It's damn intimidating, and a special feat if one can pull it off. I think, while that chapter had a good start, it would lose its steam rather quickly, so I ****_wanted_** **it to be rather short, though complete. Hopefully, I brought the idea across well.  
write  
: to form letters or numbers on a surface with a pen, pencil, etc.  
: to create (a book, poem, story, etc.) by writing words on paper, on a computer, etc.  
: to produce (a written document, agreement, rule, etc.) by writing.**


	10. Soulful

**(Well, ten chapters. Didn't think I'd make it this far, to be honest. I thought a lynch mob would have chased me off the website by now. Regardless, I'd like to thank all of you guys for sticking with me this far. 10% done! Once again, and to make up for my forgetfulness on the last chapter, thanks for the reviews and favourites.)  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Soulful  
Rating: T**

Nothing.

It was an odd thing to say, and, when she gave that answer, it elicited strange responses, but it was simply the truth. She felt nothing. Call it apathy, call it a heart made of stone or of ice, or just call it a lackadaisical demeanour, it meant nothing to her. Anything that came out of her mouth was a complete, monotone or a deadpan. No hint of anything: joy, sadness, fear, anger, envy, or sarcasm. It was... empty, like she was a soulless husk of a human being.

Could she even be called human?

She considered herself lucky, if anything. Lucky that she could mask her face of indifference with a facade of subdued felicity. No one noticed how the corners of her mouth twitched in exhaustion, tired of keeping it on all the time. No one noticed the lack of warmth in her eyes. No one noticed the dead feeling that engulfed her constantly.

She supposed it was why people got so confused when she told people that she simply felt nothing. After all, she did everything that everyone did, and supposedly experienced joy, like everyone else, so why answer with nothing? They didn't realize her apathy, masked under everything else that she piled on. A tonne of fluff, seemingly acting like her personality, overlaying the dull interior, underneath. It didn't take people who met her long to realize that her personality was a complete hoax. People came and went like mayflies, eager to meet her, then utterly disappointed when they actually did. On the bright side, it left her with peace and quiet, which she grew rather fond of, after getting used to it.

Today was no different. Sit in the corner of the room, and observe the world go by her. Exchange pleasantries with anyone nice enough to drop by, to her remote corner of the classroom, and only pursue conversations if absolutely necessary. It was a boring, predictable routine, but she wasn't bothered. She didn't particularly care, after all. A presence approached her from her side. A boy strode up, with a wide grin.

"Well, hey there Sayaka-chan," He said waggishly, his grin morphing into a silly expression. She shot him a dull stare.

"Hello, Makoto-san," She returned monotonously. The boy in front of her, Makoto Naegi, was an oddly persistent boy. He was the only one to actually return to her company, after learning of her true personality, or lack thereof. Suffice it to say that it perplexed her, being such a deviation from the usual procedure. However, his company wasn't unwelcomed, though Sayaka didn't really argue for or against someone's company.

Makoto scoffed. "No '-kun'? I'm hurt," He mourned mockingly. Sayaka blinked.

"I apologise for that, Makoto-kun. I will address you with your preferred suffix," She said curtly. Makoto sniffed.

"You're no fun, Sayaka-chan. Loosen up a little bit," He whined. She coughed.

"You imply that I'm serious. I simply lack... well, I lack any emotional response whatsoever. Apathy, so to speak," She explained, the words coming to her automatically. Makoto laughed. The sentence was a rebuttal that she often used to counter his claims, usually pertaining to her emotional state. It was used so often, that he could practically recite it himself, despite the fact that it was her who used it, and not vice versa.

"Apathy is right," He responded, following their seemingly scripted conversation, "I've seen a rock with more personality than you," He japed, poking her in stomach. Sayaka rolled her eyes.

"Be sure to introduce me to this rock, when you get the chance," She responded promptly. Makoto snickered, before slowly tapering off into silence. Once the brunette had quieted down, she returned to her previous business, pertaining to her schoolwork. A tangible silence suddenly filled the air, flooding the space between the two. After a few seconds of silence, Sayaka returned to her previous chore, which was writing out the notes that she had missed previously.

After a while, Makoto spoke up, much less ludic than before.

"Man, Sayaka, why did you have to be so pretty?" He said softly. Sayaka paused her work, then silently turned to Makoto, who had a downtrodden look on his face.

"What do you mean?" She questioned, tilting her head. Makoto flinched- evidently, his remark wasn't supposed to have been heard- before he sighed in resignation, continuing his spiel.

"I think you're pretty, Sayaka-chan. I have for a long time now," He said dauntingly, his olivine eyes taking on a brave edge to them. Sayaka was startled. In the two years that she had known Makoto, she hadn't realized his innate attachment to her, underlying his teasing personality. She cursed herself for not noticing them sooner; she simply just thought that she wasn't going to garner such attention, much less the sole person who stuck around her. Makoto sighed, when he noticed her apparent indifference. "I figured you'd do something like this. Just wave my confession off and go about your normal day. Heck, if I talk to you tomorrow, you'd probably just say the same thing again. So, just forget I said anything," He finished glumly, turning away.

For some reason, this made Sayaka uncomfortable. She wasn't sure why, but it just... made her antsy, giving a moving feeling to her stomach. Her hand trembled, sending her pencil strokes awry. She opened her mouth, then quickly shut it, once she realized that, for once in her life, she had nothing to say.

Why was this bugging her? She hadn't felt a feeling such as this... at all. It was completely unfamiliar to her, and it shook her to her very core. She felt a thin film of sweat build itself on her forehead, and she gulped inaudibly, dropping the pencil on her binder. She gently smacked her cheeks, in order to grab a hold on her emotions, running rampant in her cranium.

 _Emotions?_

Sayaka blinked, the unfamiliar word suddenly filling her mind, pushing all other thoughts into her subconscious. Why did she suddenly describe herself, using that word? As far as she knew, she hadn't experienced anything like that before. So why did it start now? Why was she suddenly experiencing these things?

It was like chasing a drug high. Once you'd experienced it, you had to know more of it, if only to try and understand what it was.

Sighing, she massaged her temples, squeezing her eyes shut, before opening them once more. Makoto was currently gathering up his belongings, and preparing to exit the scene gracefully. Sayaka opened her mouth, but, to her surprise, nothing tumbled out. She quickly shut it once more, and smacked her head once more, this time with a bit more force to it.

 _Get a hold of yourself, Sayaka._

Growling, she thrust her chair backwards, standing up, and gaining the surprised attention of Makoto. She stared ahead dully, before it clicked with her to speak words. She scrambled around her brain to find a coherent combination, before groaning aloud.

Why was this so hard for her to do? She never had difficulty speaking her mind before.

Man, emotions were an annoying thing to deal with. Were the odd irregularities she was experiencing even emotions?

Tentatively, Sayaka spoke up. "Uh, Makoto-kun?" Makoto turned to stare in confusion, obviously not expecting her to actually speak up. She gulped, scratching at her chin, flitting her eyes around as she spoke. "There seems to be a problem," she admitted, placing her hand on her chest.

"Wha?"

"I'm experiencing irregular heartbeats," She interrupted, not in the mood for banter, "Odd body heat. Hesitance. Lapses in judgment," She explained. Makoto's confused look turned into one of small hope, as she continued. "I believe that these are emotions, am I correct?" It was a rhetorical question, as Sayaka had probably figured out the answer already, but he nodded. "I've never experienced them before, yet you've successfully changed that. Why? I'm curious to find out why," She finished, glancing down. Makoto's face turned into a grin, as he sidled up to the blue-haired girl.

"Is that a 'yes, I'll go out with you'?" He asked cheerfully, waggling his eyebrows. Sayaka flicked his forehead in annoyance, rolling her eyes.

"I suppose that it could be considered as such," She murmured, her cheeks heating up oddly. Makoto snickered, before wrapping his hand around Sayaka. She didn't push it away, more preoccupied with the thrumming in her ears.

"...I'm kinda amazed. I didn't think this would ever happen," He admitted. Sayaka sighed.

"Neither did I." **  
**

* * *

 **Huh. I decided to publish this a bit earlier than usual, because why not. I was sitting on here, and I wanted to kick my habit of updating late. Here ya go, try not to cringe too much at it.  
Alright, there was no way out of writing this in Sayaka's perspective, with how emotional and excitable Makoto can get. I wanted for something Makoto did to genuinely move Sayaka, to the point of her reconsidering her emotional patterns. Only, to do that, I had to make her a bit off-kilter to begin with. Thus... that's what I did. Completely and purposefully fucked over her mental state, to the point of apathy. Think similar to the character 'Riley', from Inside Out, only, apathy is considered normal for her, instead of being caused by personifications of their emotions destroying their mental state in a feature film. This is also the first chapter where I don't state the prompt word in the chapter at all, instead just hinting at it throughout the entirety of the piece. I'll probably teeter between this, and stating it somewhere, in order to keep some variety to it.  
You know, I'm starting to notice a pattern here. I tend to feel less confident about chapters where I'm forced to write characters out of their normal mind set, in order to encompass the prompt word. I need to break this habit, and be more creative with my thought processes, but for now, I'm stuck like this. Oh well.  
Chapter is pretty straightforward. Makoto's sudden, soulful confession sparks a previously unknown feeling, and it intrigues Sayaka to the point of where she wants to understand it more. A bit cheesy, I know, but it's still well intentioned. Both characters are a tad OOC, but, as I said earlier, I kinda had no choice in the matter. Next chapter will be, surprisingly, me listening to people.  
Make of that what you will.**  
 **soulful  
: full of or expressing feeling or emotion**


	11. Broken

**(Wow, I'm surprised. I'm actually growing rather active on this story once more. It's bound not to last long, but we'll see. I owe it to Danganronpa 3 for restoring my inspiration for the series. Once again, thank you all for the favourites and follows!**

Why am I feeling so tired)

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Broken  
Rating: T**

Sayaka grit her teeth as she snatched the paper that had been taped to her locker, crumpling it up and hucking it away as far as possible, smacking a poor sod in the head on its way down. She grabbed her textbooks from the shelf of her locker, slamming it shut soon afterwards. People turned to stare at her in shock, but quickly turned away as she sent a glare their way, easily scaring them all into submission. She sighed in annoyance, rubbing her temples with her free hand, as she stalked away, her ears still tuned into her surroundings, catching snippets of conversations that were whispered in hush tones, though it did little to mask their intent.

 _"Tch, did you hear? The popular Sayaka Maizono is hanging out with that damn Lucky Bastard."_

Sayaka breathed deeply, the appearance of her companion Makoto Naegi, unfortunately dubbed the "Lucky Bastard" by people, subconsciously appearing in her mind, his bright and optimistic smile shining like a beacon, in the darkness that was the school. She kept a rein on her emotions, if only for his sake. He didn't want her to interject in his own problems.

 _"Man, what a Lucky Bastard. I bet he got himself to look all handsome and all that, and get her attention."_

Only, it wasn't just his problems anymore, either. Recently, Sayaka had been on the end of some nasty rumours and harassment, solely due to her association with Makoto. It had started off quietly; just a few whispers here and there, noticing that she spent the majority of her school time around the brunette, lonely boy. Soon, however, they escalated. Rumours, speculation, and a few moments of outright harassment ensued, all directed towards both her and her newfound friend. It was growing rather cumbersome to hear, but she trucked through it, solely because of Makoto's request.

 _"Pfft, I bet she's just under a damn love potion he made out of pure luck, messing around with chemicals."_

Needless to say, the experience was eye opening, at least to her. She knew that people were, at the very least, a bit weary of him, and spread some nasty remarks about him, but there was nearly no one that outright stated their dislike towards him, and people were fairly polite to him, if slightly weary. Sure, they kept their distance, but they didn't outright hate him.

Well, that's what she thought, anyways.

Her acquaintances and classmates were testing her rather light view of them. Everywhere she went, there was hostility, laced in people's voice. There was tensed body language, as if people were waiting for something to explode. But, most importantly, there was a change in attitude, pertaining to her. Instead of the throngs of people that praised her every move, there were critics, lashing out at everything she did. At first, she just chalked it up to people, not liking her, but soon, they began slipping remarks that took shots at her relationship with Makoto, and it didn't take her long to put two and two together. They simply hated Makoto, and since she chose to associate herself with him, she was to be hated as well.

Suffice it to say, in her opinion, her friends were now on a broken pedestal.

People that she used to hang out with now cut all ties with her, fearing for their own popularity. People that she used to converse with now whispered about her, spreading unsavoury rumours. People that she used to think were the nicest people ever, now snapped at her, as if they were crocodiles, and she were just lowly prey.

 _"Nah, she's probably just dating him to get more popular, or she just wants to make herself look like a fucking angel."_

That did it. Sayaka whirled on the heckler, and slammed her fist into the girl's face, sending her sprawling. She heard the satisfying noise of flesh making contact with flesh, and a crack, signalling the break, as she crumpled to the floor. Sayaka's face was stony, as she turned towards the other hecklers, who had all frozen in place, their mouths agape. She forced a nasty smirk.

"You want to talk shit about me or my friend?" She said threateningly, waving the fist in the air, which now had drops of red on it. "Well, bring it on then," She boasted. She relished in the fearful looks, as they all shrunk away. Evidently, no one wanted to challenge the threat that hung in the air, and she savoured her victory.

Then her grin abruptly faded, as she felt a hand clapped onto her shoulder. She spun around, and saw Makoto's face, concern and disappointment clear on his face. Her own fell, and her earlier elation transitioned into shame. She knew how Makoto felt about her behaviour; he'd voiced it many times, but she couldn't help it, not with the attacks that they often faced.

She couldn't let her friend's named be slandered. Not if she could help it. Not if she had the power to do it. She was throwing away her popularity, little by little, in order to save Makoto's own name, to little success. She hadn't realized that it wasn't the medieval ages. She couldn't save his name, he only dragged hers down, not that she minded.

If she lost her respect for her classmates, then they could lose theirs for her, for all she cared.

Makoto, on the other hand, was a different story.

He was sweet, kind, gentle, when he actually took the time to talk. He didn't hold things against you, he didn't have many hurtful thoughts, and he didn't judge you unfairly. He was, in a sense, the model personality. He was simply inspiring. He was not someone whose trust Sayaka wanted to lose. She didn't want to lose Makoto, whatsoever; not when she had finally breached his introverted shell. It had taken at least a month, maybe two, but she finally could somewhat deduce what the boy was thinking, and even then it was a bit of a stretch, speaking wonders about his social interactions.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, as Makoto sighed, silently grabbing Sayaka's hand. She glanced up, and olivine eyes met ocean blue ones. She scanned his expression, and the meaning became obvious to her. She thanked her intuition for being sharp as it was- it would be much more difficult to respond to the taciturn boy- and she wordlessly followed the brunette as he drifted away. She followed suit, sending bone-chilling glares towards anyone who dared keep staring at them, before wordlessly following Makoto outside, where he was currently staring up at the sky, noting the clear blue sky, free of any clouds. As she walked up, she heard him whisper.

"It's going to rain soon..." He muttered softly, clutching the canvas umbrella at his side. Normal people would dismiss it as nonsense, but Sayaka knew better. If Makoto said something was going to happen, then in all likelihood, it was probably going to happen, sometimes with absurd circumstances surrounding it. It was the signature of Makoto, otherwise known as the Lucky Bastard. She smiled, and just took a step closer, content to listen to the calm breeze of the wind, which fluttered about. They stayed like that for ten minutes, before Makoto began speaking once more. "Why did you do it...?" He asked quietly, pocketing his hand. Sayaka's face fell.

"They were saying bad things about us, Makoto-kun," She argued, her eyes remorseful, "I couldn't let them say those things about you..." She admitted, wringing her hands together. Makoto stared at her, seemingly undressing her mindset with his olivine eyes. She squirmed from the surprisingly intense gaze, before he glanced away.

"You don't need to do that..." He mumbled, keeping his grip on his canvas umbrella, "I've heard it all... I'm used to it... You don't have to do that..." He reiterated quietly. Sayaka glanced down, before her gaze snapped upwards, settling on Makoto.

"No, Makoto-kun, I won't let them do that. Not to my friend. You don't deserve all that," She said, her eyes sharp and focused. Makoto flinched at it, and he cast his eyes downward, though she could see the small smile appear on his face, if only for a brief moment. She sighed, the tension deflating, as she decided to finish her point. "I will just keep defending you, Makoto-kun, because you deserve it. You don't deserve all this hate towards you," She finished. Makoto's grin slowly grew wider, and his cheeks began tinging pink. As she turned away, she felt a hand brush up against hers, and her cheeks inadvertently grew rosy from the interaction. She glanced down, and saw Makoto's hand, shyly probing hers. She slowly opened her hand, latching onto it.

The skies began thundering, unexpectedly. Dark grey, stormy clouds, rushed into the skies, obscuring the sun and skies. It barely took two minutes for the rain to start dropping onto the earth, emptying itself without a care in the world, in a scene eerily reminiscent of the day she had first approached him. Luckily, the canvas umbrella had already been put up, pushed up above their heads. She heard the raindrops bounce off the canvas, creating a serene noise, as the grounds became wet from the skies. She smiled.

"It reminds me of when we first properly met," She said nostalgically, leaning her head on top of the shorter boy's own head. A small grin and 'mhm' was all she got in response, as they stood in the rain, watching it drop to the ground without a care in the world, simply because it was their job. As they stood in place, listening to the raindrops, a question pushed its way out of Makoto's brain.

"Sayaka-san, why did you become my friend, anyways?"

Sayaka blinked in surprise, turning to the shorter boy, who was staring down, a glum expression on his face. His shoes were tapping against the blacktop nervously, and his expression trembled. "...You were the most popular student in school... You could've had it all... but you gave it all up, just for me..." He whispered hoarsely, a confused expression on his face. Sayaka stared at him blankly for a long period of time, before it took on an incredulous look. Makoto's confusion only grew, as she decided to speak.

"Makoto-kun, I saw all the things you went through," She admitted, alarming him. He knew what she was referencing: his ostracization and subsequent harassment by others. She continued, unphased, "It was... hard, listening to people talk shit about you, simply put," She laughed at her own cussing, "It happened too many times, and eventually, I couldn't handle it anymore. I decided to help you, because you deserved help," She finished, staring at him with determination in her eyes. He was so surprised, he withdrew his hand, and pocketed it. She sighed, before waving her hand. "You deserved all the help you could get. I thought that, if nothing else, I could be slightly helpful, if only to make up for not helping sooner. I'm sorry it took so long for me to help you..." She said shamefully, glancing down. Makoto shook his head frantically, clapping his hand on her shoulder once more, garnering her attention. He smiled shakily.

"...Thanks for helping me, Sayaka-san... I really appreciate it..." He whispered, his cheeks tinted pink. Sayaka grinned, as they both turned back to the rain, which was still pouring onto the ground, though the air was now humid, moistening the wind, tickling their skin.

"No problem, Makoto-kun."

* * *

 **Holy crap, I cranked that out in one sitting, all within the space of two hours. I was** _ **really**_ **motivated for this chapter. Hooray  
Alright, this is the successor to chapter four, better known as Cheat. In that chapter, Makoto is subjected to harassment by his classmates, for being unnaturally lucky. Sayaka is a popular student, who decides to reach out to him. Now, I purposefully left the end of that chapter fairly open, to leave their relationship more in the open. This chapter was taking it to the logical conclusions. If someone murders someone, and other person remains closely affiliated with them, then the second person is considered guilty by association. A less extreme version of that is what happens here. Makoto is ostracized due to his unnatural luck. Sayaka reaches out to him, and her own status falls because of it. Guilt by association.  
I'll be honest, I based this chapter mostly around the principle of a "Broken Base". For those that don't waste their life on TVTropes like me, the concept of the Broken Base is simple. Essentially, a character has a preconceived notion about another character, either by propaganda, their own thoughts, or what other people say about them, at a point of time in the past. However, when they meet up with the second character in the present, they find out that the second character is much more petty, condescending, or has more negative qualities, that people didn't expect them to have. A prime example of this is the author that Hazel wants to meet in The Fault in Our Stars, who turns out to be an angry drunkard instead of an eccentric author. (Shoot me for being cheesy, but its the first example that came to me)  
Shoot me, I know that I left the chapter open once more, but, once again, I did that purposefully. It's supposed to be open, as it's, again, Sayaka's perspective of what befriending Makoto did to her social life, opening her eyes to the uglier portion of her friends. Don't worry, I will be writing one last chapter following this story line, effectively making it a trilogy. But, since I'm still going to be following the prompt chart, it'll take a few more chapters before that final chapter comes out.  
Hot diggity damn I'm still surprised that I was able to crank this chapter out in one night.  
broken  
: separated into parts or pieces by being hit, damaged, etc.  
: not working properly  
: not kept or honoured**


	12. Stop Time

**(Oh wow, it's been approximately a month since I first uploaded this chapter. I'm... pretty surprised I've gotten as far as I have. 13 reviews, and twelve chapters. I'd like to say "thanks" for not chasing me off this website, as I mentioned chapters prior. Thank you for your reviews and favourites, once more.)**

* * *

 **Chapter 12: Stop Time  
Rating: T**

He remembered when they first met.

It was a cloudy day. The fluffy cotton-like objects obscured the blue sky, rendering it a light grey colour, reminiscent of mars plastic. The atmosphere was quiet. Not calm, just quiet. It was seemingly tinged with an air of unease, like something was going to go wrong at any moment. It felt as if something was seemingly lodged in his throat, stubbornly refusing to leave, as he held onto the ivory-white bird, which continued squirming in his grip as if it was the only thing it could do.

The crane still brought back fond memories. He was only ten at the time, but he was still compassionate. In fact, he might've even be more compassionate than he was today. The crane was simply an injured bird, without anywhere to turn to. In his wide-eyed idealism that all children usually shared, he brought the bird back, kicking and screaming. Er, kicking and squawking.

The bird never did grow accustomed to the then-brunette boy, but he was unphased by it. He nursed its broken wing back to health, feeding it with berries and fish that he caught and picked in his spare time, before releasing it to the wild of the forests and lakes, hopefully not squandering the second chance at survival that had been inadvertently bestowed upon it by him.

He only noticed her presence after he had released the bird, and it had disappeared from sight. She had a slight smile playing on the corners of her mouth, and she had her legs crossed at the ankles, as she stared him straight in the eye. He was surprised, to say the least. No one usually came to the parts of the woods that he had often disappeared to in his childhood, and she was the first. She had an air of mysteriousness around her, composed of of elegant poise and childish mischief. He remembered the first words that she had ever spoken to him.

 _"_ _That was a nice thing you did for that crane,_ " She had commented, the smile still plastered on her face. He had nodded, before proceeding to explain why he had been in possession of a crane that day, complete with the bird's hostility towards him. She had laughed at that. Not a gut-busting laugh, but just a calm giggle that had intrigued him more. It intrigued him to the point to where he had actually asked her of her name.

She told him, he told her his, and they had shaken hands.

It was a moment like this that made him wish he could stop time.

* * *

He remembered when they first became friends.

He had never been a popular boy at school, mainly due to the childish optimism that never really disappeared from his personality. It aggravated others, as they often had wondered how a single child could house that much trust and faith in others, when he had no true reason to.

Aggravated children often lead to aggressive children.

He could never count the amount of times he was punched, slapped or kicked. He could never count the amount of times that he'd been called an odd verb that they repeated from their parents, or something offensive. In his later years, he would look back and laugh at the aggressors, wondering how their mentality had been stunted to the point of childish arguments towards a completely innocent boy. In the years he was bullied, he would often question why he was a target.

He still did, sometimes.

She had come out of nowhere during one of his routine ambushes.

He always saw them coming, but had no choice but to play into it. Turn around a corner, and get corner _ed_ by a group of more physically adept kids. If he was lucky, then only a few rough shoves and harsh words would be directed towards him. Sadly, that usually wasn't the case. A few blows to the stomach or the temple were usually added. Perhaps a kick to his face or his belly. Bruises that he would explain away, to the suspicion of others.

This time, however, was different. Don't get him wrong, the first few steps were almost textbook cases. He'd turn around the corner, and he'd be instantly swarmed by five or six boys, all a few inches and pounds greater than him, with menacing grins copy-pasted from one face to the other. The ringleader of the circle began mocking him in a condescending manner, as always, and he began to brace for the blows, clenching his eyes shut as his muscles went rigid.

Like he said, this time was a bit different.

The blows never came. Instead, screams that he recognized as his attackers sounded through the corridors, eliciting attention from the others. He hazarded a peek into the open, and was met with surprise. The girl that he had met at the lake shore had returned. Except, this time, she was back with a vengeance. A glare was on her face, one that could scare Cthulhu into submission, as her fists pummelled into the circle of roughhousers. It only took a few minutes for the group to all run away in pure terror, unused to having prey that would actually fight back.

He had heard her mutter " _that'll teach you to pick on others"_ , as she dusted her hands off, before turning back towards him. In his gratitude, he had thanked her multiple times, and she brushed off each and every single one of them, before breaking into a wide grin, his preconceived notion of poise instantly shattered to pieces, giving him a more crass, if still a bit girlish, appearance.

The hard, and memorable, part came next.

She had inquired why he was hurt the way he was. In his fear for his own wellbeing, as well as his exhaustion, he simply revealed it. None of the explaining away was given. He had expected her to simply turn away, for fear of association with him. To his surprise, she had quickly turned into a shouting rampage, cursing out the bullies in a g-rated tirade. Once she was done that, she instantly turned to him and demanded his friendship. He was too dumbfounded to reply, and simply nodded.

The bullies never bothered him again.

It was a moment like this that made him wish he could stop time.

* * *

He remembered when they first kissed and fell in love.

It had been four years since the incident with the bullies. In that eventful amount of time, they had grown to be best friends. He had known a lot of things about her (He still did, actually), and vice versa. In particular, he knew that she absolutely loved strawberry sundaes. Addicted to them, in fact. Coincidentally, it had also been her birthday at the time. He was thinking for a friend, as all good friends should, when he had invited her to the ice-cream parlor, intending to spring for a few sundaes, free of charge.

He wasn't expecting his life to change that day.

That visit to the parlour had been normal enough, at first. Orders for both of them: a strawberry sundae (of course), and a banana split, before they sat on the bench outside and watched the busy street go by as they always did, filled with busy pedestrians and automobiles, all teeming with their own story. He had noticed that she was oddly hesitant that day, scooping the frozen treat rather cautiously and slowly, which was a far cry from the energetic girl that he was so accustomed to. Still, he had dismissed it as the summer heat playing tricks on his brain; something he was vulnerable to. It wasn't until she was feeling nostalgic that he felt there was something wrong with her.

" _Do you remember that crane?_ " She had asked suddenly. The question startled him, due to the sheer left-fielded nature of the question. Two seconds ago, they were debating if Fujisaki would make a more convincing male or female (personally, he thought that Fujisaki was a more convincing female). Now, however, she had dipped her toes into the nostalgia pool. He was too dumbfounded to respond, so he had simply nodded. She smiled, the elegant poise that he thought she had returning.

" _I've always wanted to be that crane,"_ She had admitted cryptically, turning back to her sundae with more vigour than before.

He was naive, not stupid. It didn't take him very long to deduce the meaning behind her encrypted message, and his cheeks had instantly been slapped with a rosy palette. Despite the approaching sunset, he could spot the same colour of her cheeks.

Oh, and her entire face, too.

He had voiced his thoughts, and a bashful silence, one unheard of from the boisterous girl, was all he needed for an answer. He was shocked, to say the least. He never had the impression that she would be the type to fall in love, calling it frivolous before dashing off to find a pirate's treasure (A belief that he still kept to this day). Never, in his then-fourteen years of life, would he imagine that his best friend would fall in love.

Much less in love with him.

It was an odd reversal of the formula, but a welcome one for him. He had been, and always will be, an introvert, and he would never have made his own emotions known to her of his own volition. He was glad that she was the one to crack, instead of him, because he knew that he wouldn't have been able to keep himself together under the stress of confessing their feelings towards the other.

He had told her he gladly accepted, much to her surprise, and that made it official.

They had begun dating on her birthday.

They had also shared their first kiss on that birthday as well, under the sweltering summer sunset, which had disappeared halfway through the horizon. It had been chaste, rushed one, not to mention both of their firsts, but it would remain would him forever.

Well, the memory afterwards of her complaining that her sundae had melted in the heat was pretty endearing to him as well.

It was a moment like this that made him wish he could stop time.

* * *

He remembered when they first fought.

He was human. She was human. They weren't perfect. Inevitably, they were going to disagree with some aspects of life. It would be astounding if they didn't. That's why he wasn't surprised when she stormed out on him, fuming and cursing her ears off, as well as spouting phrases expressing her disbelief. They had been debating the newcomer to her circle of friends, and he had expressed his cautions and suspicions pertaining towards the girl, who's very appearance was extremely questionable. That friend had looked as if she was ready to steal an entire treasury of emotions and monetary value and not house a single concern in her brain about it.

Of course, that's what he saw. _She_ saw someone much more different. An angel herself, who had taken the burden of coming down to earth and making herself mortal, in order to guide the sheep towards the pastures. He had laughed at that, and that's what set her off.

He knew that she was fiercely loyal to her friends, and wouldn't tolerate badmouthing towards them. He was very much the same way. In fact, he could be considered even more extreme than her. It still didn't stop him from noticing the friend's ill-willed behaviour when he saw it, and pointing it out to her in order to avoid a potentially dangerous situation.

One is much more attuned to screw ups if they aren't the ones performing them.

It still didn't stop her from screaming at him, accusing him of being too untrustworthy and unforgiving, fiercely defending the new friend and calling him, crassly put, an asshole. He had simply taken it patiently and calmly, refusing to be irked, as was per his method of the time. He had simply laid down, acted as the doormat for her insults, and handled the situation calmly to diffuse it, until she stormed out, still spouting the phrase " _I hate you! Stop acting so calm about this!"_ at him, causing his ears to ring.

It wasn't long before her friend's true cutthroat, cunning and superior personality had been revealed (Which he might've taken a part in revealing. Might've.) and she had been struck with the sheer delusion that she had underwent. The next thing that had popped on her mind was the harsh, malignant words that she had shrieked at him, sending her teetering on the brink of mental stability. She had soon afterwards cried apology after apology, which he waved off. He had figured that it would happen, due to their personal similarities, and he was overall unaffected by it. Despite that, she would constantly say that the aforementioned argument was one of her greatest screw ups.

He saw it as more of a learning experience, however. It reassured him that they was mortal. Human. Prone to mistakes. They wasn't perfect, and that's what they took pride in. Their mortality. It reassured him that they could and would grow. Most importantly, it also reassured him that, while they might disagree on some aspects, they genuinely cared for the other and what impact they had on them.

It was a moment like this that made him wish he could stop time.

* * *

He remembered the day when they had married.

His engagement day, all the way to his wedding day, had put him in a bundle of nerves, ready to be set off by the tiniest mishap. He was anxious all day, as he hurriedly tried to prepare for everything. Any attempts to calm him down, joking or otherwise, were met by simple denials. He wasn't going to have his marriage be a dull one.

It had taken him a tonne of courage, a lot of encouragement from Fujisaki, and a bit of the placebo effect to get him to propose to her. It was nothing special, to be honest. A trip to the lake shore where they had first met, where they began reminiscing in front of the sunset, due to the influence of the cheesy romantic portion of his brain. A lot of nostalgia ensued, as they thought of the then-fifteen years that they had spent together.

Then had came the part where he knelt on his knee and brought out the velvet box.

He still wasn't sure if his ears were still ringing to this day from her shriek of surprise.

He had, soulfully, yet predictably, proposed to her, in the schmaltziest manner possible. She didn't particularly care, and she accepted without missing a beat. They had embraced, and been congratulated by their friends when they revealed it.

It was, for lack of a better word, horribly average. He already lived a horribly average life, and he wasn't going to make his marriage the same.

That's why everything had to be perfect. It had taken him weeks to come up with the theme of the wedding (weeks of constantly asking advice from an irritated Kirigiri), and even more to begin planning, and that was with the help of Kirigiri, the person notorious for being able to solve anything with a moments notice, which could be summed up with the sentence " _it's not good enough_ ".

(If Kirigiri heard that statement one more time she was ready to slug the owner of the voice, no questions asked).

Nevertheless, after the painful months of planning and saving, and a few shortcuts that involved a few shady deals and favours from friends with connections, the wedding was ready. They had both sent invites out to whomever they please, and soon, the bells were tolling for them.

He still remembered the weather that day. Sunny and warm, with a small amount of clouds spread out on the canvas known as the sky, dotting it with white, fluffy shapes that broke up the monotony of the otherwise flawless blue horizon.

He still remembered the difficulty of getting into the suit, and the mishaps that he, Kuwata and Oowada got into, much to the chagrin of Togami, as the trio simply couldn't understand that, " _No, you don't do up both buttons on the jacket, only one,_ ". And, " _No, a skull tie is not acceptable to wear for a ceremony, especially not one of matrimony,_ " It certainly gave him a few chuckles, as he pictured Togami's peeved off expression at their stupidity.

He still remembered the image of seeing her waltz down the aisle, the same mysterious poise that he remembered from the first day in place then. Her attractiveness had probably sent him into a furious blush, as he could remember his desperate bids to remained focus on the ceremony. In fact, he could just _see_ the priest attempting not to smirk at his anxious behaviour, as he read out the words to the marriage vow.

Two "I do's" and a tender kiss was all that was needed to seal the deal. Shouts of euphoria, celebration and cheer sounded throughout the congregation, as the pair officially became married, and she had lost her last name of Maizono, replacing it with his own.

The rest of the party was a blur. He could vaguely remember getting congratulated by at least twenty people, including the chairman of his former highschool, before they busted out the champagne, and it all became a drunken blur, filled with hoarse shouting, raucous laughter, and drinks.

The next day, he had woken up to a majour hangover, and a naked bride in his bed, snuggled under the warm, fluffy, duvet covers, pressed up against his side, whilst he was in a similar state of undress. It didn't take him long to put two and two together, and his cheeks had gone a full fire-alarm red, before he had knocked himself out once more via exhaustion and surprise, though he still had a wide grin on his face that refused to go away afterward.

It was a moment like this that made him wish he could stop time.

* * *

He remembered all these fondly, so, why does it hurt when he sees her like this?

They hadn't lived a short life, by all means. Seventy-five years of acquaintance, and sixty-five years of marriage were extremely impressive, and he was proud to say that he had a successful marriage, when most people couldn't say that they even had as much. They had raised four children, all of whom were out of the nest now, who had gone to raise children of their own, and so on. He had at least a dozen grandchildren combined, who all adored their silvery-haired grandfather, his dulled olivine eyes shimmering with mystique and amusement. By all means, he should be happy. He's lived a full life. He shouldn't have any complaints.

But the sight of his wife's laboured breathing, as she barely clung to the thread of life, made his heart ache. It was sad, but not unexpected. They both knew they were near the end of their life spans. Call it a simple gut feeling, but he felt that his death would soon follow after her's, if not sooner. The shadow of the grim reaper was a long one, and not one he could escape easily. It was mostly a tug of the heart, but he knew he wasn't far off himself. She just had the misfortune of meeting the end sooner than he was. He had desperately wished it was the other way around, but she had laughed, ssmiled it off, and just shook her head. She was content to go first, happy with her impact on the earth.

Still, it was heartbreaking to see her in this state. An oxygen tank laid to her side, the plastic cord snaking up to her face and pressed into her nostrils, as her lungs were too weak to draw in oxygen on their own. Ocean blue eyes, once filled with life, now filled with cloudy cataracts and obscured by heavy glasses, in order to make her vision usable. Her previously youthful face was now lined with wrinkles and folds. Her once explosive personality was now tired and wise. Her energetic body movements were now restricted and unmoving. Despite this, however, she still had a smile on her face. The same, familiar smile that he fell in love with seventy years ago.

Happy to the very end. Would he be lucky enough to be the same way?

He hoped so.

He sighed, as he kept his hand clasped around hers, continuing his stories of their own life. She might have grown much quieter over the years, but she would still smile at the stories along with him. It provided him with a relief from her pain. If they travelled back into their past, they could ignore their decomposing bodies, as they readied themselves to pass on to the afterlife. If they travelled back into the past, they could reminisce and feel like they actually _were_ in the past. If they travelled back in the past, they could live their life all over again.

When he was a child, a youth, a teenager, and a young adult, he always joked that he wished he could stop time. Now he wished he actually could.

* * *

 **Well that was heavy.  
Another chapter cranked out in one night. I'm impressed with myself. This is of better quality too. This was my first two-word prompt, and I'm very happy with how it turned out. This chapter has also been the longest chapter, to date.  
... I'm still under duress from typing the last scene.  
Snippets of a full life, with a slightly Lemony Narrator. Pretty straightforward here. One thing, however, is that I purposefully avoided using Makoto or Sayaka's first name. Rest assured, however, that it is indeed these two.  
This author's note is purposefully short to keep the melancholy tone of the final scene.  
Also, this is one of the chapters I'm most proud of so far.  
stop time  
: the fictional process of halting the flow of time to a complete standstill.**


	13. Alcohol

**(Not much to say, since not a lot has happened between chapters, but thanks once more for your reviews, follows and favourites!)**

* * *

 **Chapter 13: Alcohol  
Rating: T**

Why did she think this could end in _any_ other way? It was idealistic. Stupid. Naive. She slapped her cheeks in annoyance, cursing herself for not figuring that this would happen sooner, as she heard him giggle in a high-pitched tone.

"Why, no, Kirigiri, I didn't put that tree in the football~" He slurred, distracted by things that were visible only to him. She growled, but kept a rein on her patience. He had absolutely no clue what he was talking about, and was most likely hallucinating a conversation with their mutual childhood friend. She couldn't exactly hold him accountable.

She, on the other hand, was a different story.

In her defence, she didn't know that Makoto was an absolute lightweight when it came to holding his beer. He had lasted an astonishingly low two drinks, and they weren't even hard shots. It was, unsurprisingly, funny for a period of time, watching the brunette barely function as he stumbled around, completely wasted by the alcohol. In fact, for the majority of that time, she herself found it funny to laugh at, following along with the others in their group that had gone to the outing.

However, it didn't seem that funny to her when they all unanimously decided to elect her to look after the drunk brunette. In fact, aside from their budding relationship which had begun in their senior year of highschool, she was hardly the best choice. Kirigiri knew his tells more than she did. Fujisaki lived closer to him than she did. Celes actually knew how to deal with a drunk person. Yet, solely because they'd begun dating, he was thrust into her care.

She made a mental note to smack both the former and the latter of her previous thoughts. Fujisaki was too fragile to hurt.

Sighing, she turned back to check up on the still-intoxicated Makoto, who was currently jogging in circles, whining about a blue butterfly that eluded his grasp. She couldn't help but smile at his drunken antics as he slowed to a crawl, tuckered out from chasing the nonexistent butterfly. She walked up to him slowly, in an attempt not to scare the distracted brunette. Gently, she prodded at the boy's temple, startling him.

"Are you alright?" She asked in a hushed tone, pushing up the sunglasses on her face. Makoto only stared at her, his mouth agape, at her face, before he cranked it shut, his face a bright scarlet red. He glanced down, his hands wrung together nervously, before he glanced up.

"Y-yeah, I am. T-thanks, miss," He said shyly, a smile on his face. She almost laughed at his taciturn behaviour, which stemmed entirely from the fact that they'd been dating for at least two years now. Still, it was reassuring to know that, even in his drunken stupor, he still thought highly of her appearance. Instead of laughing, she just smiled, before snaking her arm out and taking a hold of of his forearm.

"C'mon," She urged, "Let's get you to a warm bed," She said, the suggestion applying to her as well as Makoto. It was approximately two a.m, and she was tired beyond belief. Still, she owed it to her boyfriend to get him to somewhere he could crash properly.

His drunken half begged to test how far his freedom could go, however. A coo of "Ooh, is that ghoul?!" was all that it took to send him sprinting, yanking his arm away from her weaker grip and dashing after the alleged fictional creature. She turned and stared in surprise, before her instincts kicked in, and she ran after him, keeping an ocean blue eye on the brunette in order to make sure he wasn't about to leap into the street.

Oh, no. He was, unfortunately, ready to do things much stupider than that.

As she drew near towards the brunette, who had suddenly screeched to a halt, and was studying the ground with great interest. Her curiosity piqued, she raised her eyebrow.

"What are you doing?" She asked, following his gaze downwards. A manhole cover, leading into the sewers, met her gaze, alongside a slight twinge of discomfort. She pushed it back, however, as she had no reason to follow up on her ideas. Makoto paused, as if in apprehensive thought, before a silly smirk appeared on his face.

"I'mma find those turtles if its the last thing I do!" He whispered urgently, squatting down and attempting to lift the manhole cover. This time, Sayaka couldn't restrain her laughter, but she made sure that she directed it away from Makoto's ears, as he began attempting to lift the iron plate, with little success.

"M-makoto-kun, I," She giggled once more, before continuing, "I don't think you can lift that!" She said, attempting to dissuade them, though her intention was masked by the sheer amusement she was finding out of the situation. How _could_ he even lift it? Manhole covers could reach upwards of two hundred to three hundred pounds. Her lanky, skinny boyfriend was shorter than she was. It was almost silly to think of that. Makoto glanced back sadly.

"Aw, really?" He cried, disappointed by the fact that he wasn't going to find the alleged turtles he had been searching for. Sighing, he slowly stretched to his feet and turned around. "That's no fun..." He mumbled, taking a few steps.

A loud gurgle suddenly flowed through her ears. She blinked. "Wha?"

The manhole burst out of its snug cover, shooting skywards. She blanched, shouting a warning into the air, as the iron-cast plate peaked in its travel, and slowly began making its way down back to earth, the force of gravity suddenly growing extremely generous with the plate of iron. Sayaka grabbed onto Makoto's arm, pulling it, and the owner, away from the path of destruction.

 _Crash_

The lid smashed into the ground with a thud, crushing the pavement underneath it. She stared at the manhole cover in astonishment, trying to process what had just happened. The gurgling sound filled her ears once more, and she blinked, before turning back towards the sewer entrance, which was now open. Receding water gave her answer. The pressure of the water, pushing against the manhole cover, had forced it out of position.

Oh, yeah. Makoto had _luck_ going for him, too. She forgot about that.

Makoto laughed giddily, rubbing his hands together with glee.

"Haha! Turtles, here I come!" He said happily, leaping up. Sayaka had much faster reflexes however. She quickly grabbed onto Makoto's hood, yanking him back.

"Sorry, Makoto-kun, but there's no way I'm letting you jump down there," She said, gritting her teeth, contemplating Makoto's astonishingly stupid luck, and marvelling at his physical capabilities, all in the same period of time. For someone on the scrawnier side, he was remarkably tough to keep a handle on.

It didn't help that a snooty laugh was currently interrupting her concentration.

"Pfft, is poor little Maizono-san dealing with a few issues?"

Sayaka grit her teeth at the elitist voice. One all too familiar to her. She shot the person a glare, before returning back to keeping a full grip on Makoto, who was trying with all his might to escape her grip, to no avail. "What do you want, Andou-san?" She shot back, swallowing the bile so it didn't poison her tone completely. Ruruka Andou stood behind her, a condescending look on her face. Sonosuke Izayoi was firmly rooted beside her, his entire body wrapped around her arm. She laughed, staring at her current predicament.

"It seems that your boyfriend's a bit... impaired at the moment. Too much to drink?" She said, barely restraining her laughter. Sayaka rolled her eyes, not interested in pursuing the conversation further.

Ruruka Andou was a student of the same college that she and Makoto were attending, alongside her fiance Sonosuke Izayoi. Needless to say, Sayaka didn't like her very much. Perhaps it was her elitist behaviour. Perhaps it was simple disagreements. Perhaps it was the fact that Andou was a, succinctly put, an asshole.

She'd wager it was the latter.

Still, she resolved to be polite about it. Being rude wouldn't guarantee a good time for anyone. She simply nodded. "It turns out Makoto-kun can't hold his liquor," She said sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head, before she felt Makoto tug once more, still trying to leap down the manhole cover beside them. Andou laughed once more, before pressing her head into Izayoi's shoulder in a sickeningly-sweet gesture.

"Thankfully, _Yoi-chan_ is much better for parties," She cooed, before digging into her purse and holding a piece of confectionery up. Izayoi snatched it without a word, before pushing it into his mouth. Sayaka stared at them incredulously- were they making a competition out of this?- before shaking her head. She didn't particularly have the time for silly competitions, or annoyances. She forced a grin.

"Good for him. Anyways, I've got to get him back home. Shame I can't stay longer," She said, not one bit regretful, "Toodles!"

That was the final message she spouted before hauling Makoto off, away from Andou and Izayoi, dragging him by his arm and nearly pulling it out of his socket, which he screeched at, squirming in her grip. She didn't lose her grip, however, and redoubled her efforts to get away from the sickening duo of disaster, though with the added difficulty of a one hundred thirty pound college kid pulling away from you at every step. After a while, they had finally reached the park, just as Makoto pulled away from her grip, a pout on his face.

"Why did you stop me from finding those blasted turtles? I'm gonna waste all those mushrooms!" He cried. Sayaka blinked, her confusion masked by the aviator glasses on her face. She chalked it up to gibberish, but it seemed there was method to his madness.

Wait, was she trying to justify a drunk guy's ramblings? Man, she was more tired than she thought she was. More motivated than ever to go to sleep, she turned to Makoto, who was oddly focused on her. "Hey, Makoto-kun, let's get you home, for some sleep," She urged, taking a step forward. Makoto furrowed his brow.

"Miss, you don't even know where I live," He said suspiciously, his voice seeped with caution. Sayaka mentally slapped herself. This drunken version of Makoto didn't know who she was. It was only natural for him to be suspicious. She sighed.

"I'm a friend of your friend, Fujisaki. He told me where you live," She explained falsely, not willing to explain the entire celebrity business, and possibly blow her flimsy disguise, which seemed to have been put together with cardboard cutouts. Makoto squinted at her, studying her face.

"...I don't believe you," He decided childishly, crossing his arms. Sayaka's eye twitched.

"Well, believe it," She said, not in the mood for his train of thought, "And we're dragging you home, whether you like it or not," Sayaka ordered, grabbing Makoto's arm once more. Makoto unconsciously flinched, throwing his arms upward.

The aviator glasses slipped off, disturbed by the swing, and landed with a dull thud.

Time seemed to immediately freeze for Sayaka, as she struggled to comprehend what had just happened. Unfortunately, the people walking around her were a smidgen faster than she was.

 _"Is that_ Sayaka Maizono _?!_ "

 _"Sayaka Maizono-san?! Where?!"_

 _"Maizono-san! I'm your biggest fan!"_

She cursed under her breath, and Makoto flinched, as people began noticing her, once the glasses obscuring her eyes had disappeared, leaving her recognizable face in full view of everyone, despite the hat on her head that had worked a lot better with the aviator glasses.

Whaddaya know, baseball caps don't mask your identity at all.

Her brain instantly kicked into overdrive, a form she affectionately called "rabid fanbase mode", and she grabbed onto Makoto's forearm once more, not bothering to argue. She tugged him along hard enough to separate the limb from his body, as she burst into a sprint, as the passerbys suddenly became pursuers, all hounding her for her autograph of some kind.

"W-whaa...?!" Makoto slurred, completely shocked. Sayaka didn't bother responding, instead trying to simultaneously find a route out of their current predicament, whilst also keeping an eye out for anyone who might jump out of the woodwork, paper at the ready. It never took long for those types of fans to appear. Sure enough, soon there were people, leaping out of alleyways and from doors. She dodged them all with a precise ease, weaving her way through the crowds. "Maizono-san... my legs hurt..." He whined, his earlier distrust forgotten. Sayaka grit her teeth, shaking her head.

"We'll get you some rest afterwards, Makoto-kun, but this is a bit more important," She said, trying her best to sound gentle, while their situation was anything but. She sidestepped towards the left, dodging a football tackle from an old man (which reminded her of a doujinshi beginning, and not the good kind), yanking him along. Her brain began filing through the information that she required, such as Makoto's address. Soon, it popped up into her mind.

It was, surprisingly, only a few blocks away. However, they had a more pressing matter: losing the frenzy that had formed behind them, engulfing the streets as if it was a flood of water, and not human beings. It sorta reminded her of zombies, to an extent. The kind she would see in corny american movies.

 _This is_ not _the time to be making analogies_.

With that thought, Sayaka turned back to her surroundings, as she felt her arm suddenly pull backwards. Surprised, she turned back, to see Makoto, almost at a complete dead halt. _Nonononono_ echoed through her mind, as she began pulling him along. "Makoto-kun, what's wrong?" She asked hurriedly, doing her best to pull him along. Their pace, however, was much slower than before.

"Too... tired..." He mumbled, stumbling a few times, before he dropped to a stop. Sayaka, however, wasn't about to be deterred. In a flash, she pulled his arm forwards, tripping him in the process, though he was too tired to care. He tripped forwards, as Sayaka knelt on her knees. Makoto collapsed forwards, landing on her back, his head pressed up beside hers in an improvised piggy back form. Quickly, she leapt back up, before continuing her sprint. It wasn't as fast as her dragging the functioning Makoto around, it sure as hell wasn't as fast as them both running, completely sober, but it was slower than Makoto when he was passed out. As she kept sprinting down the street, two things appeared in her mind.

One: Makoto was extremely light.

Two: She thanked the lord that she was forced to attend physical fitness lessons.

...

Her fatigue was messing with her mind. That was definite.

She shook all, non-important thoughts to her subconscious (aside from the astonishment that she hadn't run smack-dab into a wall yet), and focused on her surroundings. The way to get out was always a quick exit and a distraction. If she could only find a good location to dip into...

There! There was a convenience store, off to the corner. If there was one thing that she knew, it was that the convenience store always carried dumb hats, silly glasses, and cheap clothes. She wasn't sure if it was just a deus ex machina, or cheesy souvenirs for a tourist town, but she didn't particularly care. She hazarded a glance behind her, seeing that the horde was still a ways off, before turning back. On a dime, she ducked into the convenience store, immediately gliding towards the back, which housed the clothing.

"Quick quick quick..." She muttered under her breath, as she snatched a jacket off the racks, shrugging it on and zipping it up over her dress. She shrugged her boyfriend off her back, steadying him with one hand, as she grabbed a sunhat from the rack and placing it on her head. A weird pair of star-shaped glasses (how were those still being produced, anyways? They'd been obsolete for at least two decades) completed her looks. Now, all she had to do was find a suitable disguise for Makoto.

 _"_ _I think she ducked in here!"_

 _"Really? Let's check!"_

Sayaka blanched, her skin paling past the normal porcelain tone, making her seem like a vampire. She glanced frantically towards Makoto, who was still knocked out from the liquor. Quickly, she pushed a baseball cap on his head, but there wasn't much more she could do besides that. She could _smell_ the fans incoming, and they smelt like loneliness, rosy palms, and people with _way_ too much time on their hands, writing falsified situations solely to fufill their dreams, which had almost no chance of existing.

Nah, no one could do that.

 _(Please don't hurt me.)_

She blinked away the unknown voice, her mind growing panicked. She was running out of options, fast. If she didn't come up with a way to hide their presence, they'd be ousted and doomed to sign autographs until seven a.m. As she saw the first few bits of the throng come in, she had no better options. She quickly swiveled around, leaned in, and pressed her chaste lips to her unconscious boyfriend, nearly gagging in the process.

Despite the fact that Makoto had only drank two or three shots, his mouth reeked of alcohol, and not the good kind, either. Whiskey kind of bad. Maybe they _hadn't_ given him beer after all. Still, she gulped down her nausea, and her lips remained fastened onto his, giving the appearance of a young couple, who hadn't quite learned the skill of keeping it subdued. Kind of like that one annoying high school couple that just simply _wouldn't. Stop. Kissing._ She quietly heard the group press up against the walls, scoping out the convenience store. A dull pause, and Sayaka hoped that her fans would be stupid enough not to enter the store, just to check.

 _"_ _...They're not here. Move out!"_

The horde stampeded away, as Sayaka felt a mixture of glee, astonishment, and disappointment. Glee that she had eluded her fans and a dreaded autograph session. Astonishment that her fans hadn't given the convenience store a thorough search, and disappointment that the fans that were dumb enough not to look. She sighed, before turning to stare at Makoto, who was still unconscious, though with a wobbly grin on her face. She sniffed.

"Sure, pass out on me during the most important parts," She muttered to herself.

Snickering cut through the air. Sayaka froze, before slowly turning to the countertop of the cash register, where the cashier stood, amused at the entire situation. She recognised the large, caramel-coloured pompadour poof. The black, rough, tattered biker's jacket. The anklet, though it was obscured by the pants leg. She glared at Mondo Oowada, a slight blush on her face.

"You saw nothing. I'll help you with your essays and prep for the next two weeks," She ordered in a stern tone. Oowada chuckled.

"Deal."

* * *

Sayaka slowly awoke to a fatigue-induced headache, her head thrumming to a constant rhythm. She blinked, rubbing her bleary eyes, as she glanced around the darkened room with slight pain. While she hadn't gotten drunk, or enough intoxication to render her impaired, she still had a few drinks, which still translated into a hangover, sadly. Her eyes focused slowly on her surroundings, and she grew confused. She was in Makoto's living room, on his wide, sectional couch which had taken a few loans from Makoto's younger sister and parents. The only question was: "how?". The last she remembered, she had bribed Oowada to remain silent, and began stumbling back towards Makoto's apartment, completely tuckered out. Everything past that was a fatigue-induced blur.

Her phone buzzed on her table, drawing her attention. Leaning forwards, she gingerly swiped the phone from the table, powering it up and moving towards her text messages. The sound of snoring streamed in her ears. Masculine snores.

Snores that came from right below her.

Sayaka swiped her phone upwards, spotting a new message from Touko Fukawa.

Then she blinked.

She slowly moved her attention from the screen to her lap.

A slumbering Makoto snored loudly, a smile on his face. He was still conked out from their escapades last night, and he would likely stay like that for a while. She couldn't help but smile, before turning back to her phone.

 _Message: Sent on October 7, 3:19AM  
From: Touko Fukawa  
To: Sayaka Maizono  
Why were you two passed out on the floor to Naegi-san's living room?! Do you know how hard it was to drag you both onto the couch?!  
_

Sayaka laughed silently, typing up a response quickly.

 _Message: Sent on October 7, 2:51PM  
From: Sayaka Maizono  
To: Touko Fukawa  
eheh sorry bout that ^^; so you were the 1 who found us and put us on th couch w/ the blanket? Thx for tht! ^.^_

She sent the message, before glancing back down, where Makoto was still sleeping. He snuggled deeper into her lap, pressing his ears to her belly. She couldn't help but giggle- she was surprisingly ticklish- as the phone buzzed again once more. She flicked it open.

 _Message: Sent on October 7, 2:52PM  
From: Touko Fukawa  
To: Sayaka Maizono  
Ugh, use proper grammar please. In any case, yeah. I dragged you onto the couch myself and dug up some of Naegi-san's blankets. I even locked the door for you guys! Oi vey, the thanks I receive..._

She laughed once more, sending her final message for the afternoon. Her head was still pounding, though not from any kitchen knives, or baseball bats. Or baseballs.

She still held it against Kuwata for giving her a concussion with that stray fastball.

 _Message: Sent on October 7, 2:52PM  
From: Sayaka Maizono  
To: Touko Fukawa  
srry bout th grammar again. N e ways, I'm going bck to sleep. Makoto-kun too. Night!" v_v_

She yawned once more, before shutting off the phone, tossing it back onto the table, and snuggling back into the sectional cough, resting her head on the fluffy pillow that she, in her unconscious state, had snatched up from the table. She heard Makoto mumble "Love you..." in his sleep, and she smiled.

"Love you too, Makoto-kun..." She responds, before shutting her eyes to return back to sleep.

She didn't hear the final message, as her phone buzzed softly.

 _Message: Sent on October 7, 2:52PM_  
 _From: Touko Fukawa_  
 _To: Sayaka Maizono_  
 _Grammar! Agh, why do I even bother anymore. Enjoy your rest. Try not to get_ too _much of a hangover. Tell me if you and Makoto hit a home run. Might give me some inspiration. Damn writers block. Night.  
_

* * *

 **Glance does not condone any use of alcohol. All characters portrayed drinking are considered of legal drinking age.**

 **Try to get me now, lawsuits that certainly won't occur.**

 **In any case, I'm almost certain that my portrayal of being drunk is not fairly accurate, but screw it. I'm using the Creative License card, which is a one-time pass to get past any kind of bullshit. I did a fair bit of research, but the symptoms were fairly broad, so I made sure to try and fit them all under the wide spectrum of symptoms. Anything else was what I came up with.**  
 **Yeah, Makoto doesn't seem like the type to hold his liquor very well. At first I thought of writing the chapter in the reverse, Makoto taking care of a drunk Sayaka, but then I realized that a public drunk idol wouldn't exactly be the smartest decision, especially since this iteration of her has a poor ability to disguise herself. If I had written it like that, I'd have to come up with an entirely new slew of scenarios that would've grown either boring or similar. This chapter was mainly written for comedy, with a bit of fluff, since the last chapter was astonishingly melancholic, right at the end, though it had sweet parts.**  
 **Also, this is the first appearance by Danganronpa 3 characters. The sickeningly-sweet pair of Sonosuke Izayoi and Ruruka Andou. Thoughts? Andou is very jerkish, but she fulfills her dramatic role of, well, being an asshole towards Kimura. Izayoi is rather one-dimensional, if I'm going to be honest. I'd have to see him interact more with other characters, besides Andou, in order to get a better impression of his personality.**  
 **I noticed I'm turning into a Lemony Narrator, which is basically a narrator that acts like a normal human, and potentially even a smartass, referencing different situations in an absurd manner, or making snide remarks about them. Woo. Also, my chapter length is increasing, which is also a good sign for me,**  
 **alcohol**  
 **: a clear liquid that has a strong smell, that is used in some medicines and other products, and that is the substance in liquors (such as beer, wine or whiskey) that can make a person drunk**  
 **: drinks containing alcohol**


	14. Pauses

**(I exist. Whaddaya know. Thank you all for your reviews, favourites and follows!)**

* * *

 **Chapter 14: Pauses  
Rating: T**

He stared at the telephone with a belligerent eye, though his lip quivered. Inwardly, he was trying to muster as much courage as he possibly could, which equated to... somewhere close to Fujisaki's self esteem.

That was _bad._

Still, he supposed that he had to try to do this, because, honestly, it was gnawing at his mind all night and day, like a bad rash that just _simply. Would not. Go. Away._

He shook away the thoughts of a similar irritation that plagued him for a few months back in fifth grade, before glancing at the phone once more. He had to do this. He had to tell her, otherwise his emotions would drive him bonkers.

Slapping his face, he apprehensively inched his hand closer to the phone receiver, which gleamed in anticipation. C'mon... he could do this...! Almost there!

 _ **RING!**_

He screeched in surprise, leaping four feet in the air, as the phone went off, signaling a person on the other end. For a minute, he thought the worst: what if _she_ was calling _him_? But then he quickly banished that thought. She only had his cell phone number, and, from what he knew, neither his parents nor Komaru had been contacted by her (and he _knew_ they would tell him if they were contacted by her. It wasn't everyday when an idol just rang up your landline after all, and every time she had called him had been on the cellphone, though they did that quite often). Ergo, it simply couldn't be her. Still, he was slightly nervous as he picked up the receiver.

"H-hello?"

 _"_ _...Makoto-kun?"_

He blinked. The voice on the other end was higher pitched, but it was definitely recognizable. He slowly picked through the mental files of the people he knew, flitting from one person to another, before one face in particular slowly jumped out at him. One with tanned skin, ocean-blue eyes and chocolate brown hair.

"...Yuuta?"

The voice let out a cough in surprise, before answering.

" _Erm, yeah._ " Aoi's brother responded, _"_ _Hey, is Komaru-chan there?"_

The volume of Maizono's voice, filtered through a radio, seemingly amplified in response, though it was still muffled by the walls. He rolled his eyes, before returning to the receiver, his earlier doubts momentarily pushed towards the back of his mind. "Yeah, she's upstairs. What do you need her for?" He inquired curiously. The receiver shifted, before the voice answered.

 _"_ _Well, uh... You know the kids we babysit together, right? The, uh, 'warriors of hope'?"_ The image of a few, video-game fanatical children popped into his mind, and he winced, before making a noise of agreement. A loud exhale followed, before the brunette continued. " _They've decided to go on another 'raid', and I need her help again. Can you tell her that, please? I've gotta go,"_

A loud explosion filtered through the receiver, and he winced, his understanding of why Komaru continued to babysit the little brats further eluding him. Nevertheless, he nodded. "Alright, I'll tell her. Where are you, again?" He questioned.

 _"_ _Fujisaki towers. Now, I've gotta go! Bye, Makoto-kun, have a nice day!"_

The line went dead, aside from the standard dial tone. He stared at the receiver in disbelief, before slowly pocketing it in its cradle. Numbly, he trailed up the steps to the second floor of their house, walked towards Komaru's room, and opened it. Immediately, his senses were bombarded with a lot of the colour grey, along with the familiar lyrics of "Monochrome Answer". Komaru squealed in surprise, before glaring at him.

"What are you doing here?!" She demanded. Still in disbelief, he told the girl of what happened to the younger Asahina, and she paled, her anger forgotten. "Oh, shit, shit shit... uh... uh..." She quickly began scrambling around, tripping over in her messy room, before picking up an odd megaphone, which had been decorated with a lot of dollar-store markers (and labelled in the same kind of marker... Hacking Gun? strange, but he didn't really care). "Alright, I'm gonna go! Don't tell mom or dad about this, alright?"

He nodded dumbly, as Komaru quickly sped down the steps, and out the door, before shutting the door to his sister's room and slowly walking back towards the phone receiver, his earlier nervous behaviour now returning. Was he ready to do this? Was he ready to throw away any chance of a normal relationship for the possibility of pursuing it? It was almost sure to fail, and he would become the laughing stock of gossip columns. He could just picture it now, 'unknown boy confesses to idol in horrendous manner', and he shuddered. However, his mind was set. He had to do this, otherwise he couldn't deal with himself.

Bravely, he picked up the receiver, dialed her number, and put the receiver to his ear, ready to profess his attraction.

 _Ring..._

 _Ring..._

 _Ring..._

 _"The number you have dialed is unavailable at the moment. Please try again later."_

The phone returned to its flat line. He pulled the crème receiver away from his ear, before staring at it, the sound of the flat line just barely audible. His olivine eyes were glassy, as his brain struggled to comprehend what had transpired.

"Did... did that just happen?" He asked confusedly to no one in particular, completely lost.

* * *

An hour later of painstaking waiting, he had gathered up his nerves to try the phone once more. Still completely anxious to try and complete his goal (and fearful of what would happen afterwards), he slowly reached out towards the phone an extra time.

A pause. A sigh of relief.

No one had called this time.

He picked up the phone. Dialed a number. Then he put the receiver to his lips and ear once more, his heartbeat steadily amplifying with each and every passing second. The ringing seemed to grow a higher pitch with each passing moment, and he felt perspiration form at the edge of his hairline.

Soon, however, the phone cut to actual feedback, and his heart dropped.

 _Oh god I don't want to do this Oh god I don't want to do this_ constantly repeated in his mind, over and over again and rapidly taking up any space in his brain for cognitive function. He trembled in his spot, as Maizono spoke.

 _"_ _Makoto-kun, why the hell are you calling me so early in the morning?"_

He blinked.

That was definitely not Sayaka Maizono.

Quickly, he matched the voice to another person in his mind, and he blanched.

He'd much rather be dealing with Maizono though.

He gulped down his nervousness (which now originated from two sources instead of one), and spoke. "Oh, h-hi, Miaya-san, I think I might h-have dialed the wrong number," He stammered out. The voice on the other end, which belonged to Usami, or Gekkogahara, was tired and cranky.

 _"_ _I'll say,"_ The robotic voice chirped, _"_ _I was in the middle of sleeping! You should be ashamed of yourself, Makoto-kun! I'll have to set you straight!"_

The mental image of the wheelchaired girl, chasing him around with a rocket launcher, came to his mind, and he blanched. "No, no, no, no, no, I think I'll be _fine_ without that!" He said in an overtly cheerful voice, trying not to betray his petrification with the girl. Usami sighed.

 _"_ _Very well. I shall let you go, just this once!"_ He almost let out a whoop, but restrained himself to silence, " _But! If you interrupt my slumber, then..._ "

He tensed up.

 _ **"There will be hell to pay.**_ "

He flinched. He knew it was coming, but he flinched regardless. In fact, he nearly dropped the receiver, fumbling with it so it didn't smack into the tiled floors.

 _"_ _Okay, I'm going back to sleep. Night, Makoto-kun!"_ Usami's voice returned to chipper from the previous setting of 'hellspawn'.

"N-night..." Was his sheepish reply.

Another dial tone as the blue-haired girl hung up the phone, leaving him utterly baffled.

He rubbed his face with his hands, as an absent realization came to him.

Why was Gekkogahara still sleeping, anyways? It was noon, for christ's sake!

He sighed, pushing the thoughts of his mind once more. No. He was getting off track. He had to call now, and do it fast. This was one of the few times where he knew she would be available for the majourity of the day, before she was flung back into concert after concert. If he didn't act now, then he wasn't sure when he could act again.

He took a deep breath, before dropping the receiver, waiting for two seconds, and picking it up once more. This time, he dialed her number, triple checking to absolutely make sure that he dialed the correct person. Once he was certain that he had dialed Maizono's number, he pressed the green 'talk' button.

Then his anxiousness hit him like a truck.

Thoughts of her, laughing at his confession, before stomping all over it filled his mind, along with the press reception and his complete alienation hit him at once, forcing him to sharply gasp. He slammed the receiver down onto its cradle almost immediately, as he felt his stomach suddenly protest, filling with butterflies faster than a conservatory. It was strong enough to force him to latch onto the table for support, as he slowly began inhaling and exhaling to calm himself.

Why was he being so scared about this? He had been forced to recite a speech that didn't exist at a school assembly, in front of the entire student and teacher body. _That_ was frightening, coming up with a motivational speech on the spot, under pressure. This should've been nothing compared to that, so, why was it so difficult for him to do this?

The answer popped out at him like it was obvious. Because this dealt with a relationship with someone he _really_ cared about. Sure, his class and his school were also important to him, but his relationship with a certain blue-haired girl took precedence over all of it. Probably due to the stupid crush he had in middle school.

Stupid feelings, lasting longer than a gobstopper.

He blinked at the odd analogy, before focusing on the receiver.

No. The time for cowardice had passed, a long time ago. It passed at his middle school graduation. That was two years ago. He had to do this now. _For peace of mind,_ he thought to himself, as he picked up the receiver.

 _Peace of mind..._ It was a lie that he could fool himself into thinking. Really, he just wanted the chance to bring things up. Even the slightest chance that she would like him back was better than nothing. Even the slightest chance that they would become... more than friends.

This was a stupid idea, he knew, but his inner optimism hoped for more.

The phone suddenly cut into a ring, and his eyes widened. He had unconsciously dialed her number while monologuing.

Fuuuuuck.

He sighed, before resignedly put the receiver to his ears and lips. He could see the epitaph on his grave now: "died of embarrassment over accidentally calling his crush".

Okay, maybe that was exaggerating a slight bit, but he had every reason to think so. He had one chance to do this, and he was almost guaranteed to screw it up in some manner. Probably his horrid luck, which was always at play in one way or another. He sighed, before leaning against the wall for support, as the phone kept ringing, before it finally picked up.

" _Oh, hey, Makoto-kun! I was wondering when you'd call!_ "

He couldn't help but feel his breath hitch in his throat, as a smile spread across his face. _This_ was the voice that he was expecting, and it sounded like heaven; as always. It was as if honey, maple syrup and sugar had combined into one voice, that sung to him in particular. He knew that this was over exaggerating, but it's what he felt. A pause ensued, before she spoke again.

 _"_ _Uh, Makoto-kun? Are you there?"_

He gasped in surprise, before fumbling for words. He forgot, not everyone slowed down in time whenever someone entered a monologue. "Uh, yeah! Sorry about that, I just got distracted for a bit," He lied, chuckling nervously. Better not tell her that he was enamoured by her voice. Not yet, anyways. Maizono laughed, a melodious laughter, as his heart soared for a little bit more.

 _"_ _Okay! So, what'cha wanna talk about?"_ He heard her ask from wherever she was. Probably driving across the nation, or something to that degree. He didn't really know how the idol life worked. He laughed nervously, before responding.

"Eheh, just wanted to see how you were doing," He said absentmindedly, realizing that _oh god oh god he did_ not _have a plan._ Maizono chuckled.

" _Ah, how nice of you! I'm currently in an RV right now, with my groupies. Say 'hi', girls!"_

He vaguely heard the greetings of different voices from the garbled receiver, which he assumed to be her group mates. Maizono continued without missing a beat.

 _"_ _Yeah, that's all that's happening. No concerts or tours right now, but I might be going on one soon! Stay tuned~"_

He heard the melodious, enchanting laughter once more, and he gulped. This was the moment.

"Hey, uh, Maizono-san, I've gotta ask you something," He said, cautiously waiting for her response. A silence ensued, before she spoke.

 _"_ _Oh?"_

He gulped. This was the moment that he had been waiting for. This was the moment that he would take a step into unknown territory.

"Well, uh, I've gotta say... I-"

A sudden squeal interrupted his suicidal sentence, as the receiver suddenly peaked. The feedback turned to near gibberish, as events that he didn't know had suddenly taken place. He actually had to pull the receiver from his ear so the noise didn't punch a hole through his eardrums. He could make out screams of " _What the hell?!"_ , " _Holy shit!"_ and other things that he wouldn't expect from a group of idols who were all specifically advertised to promote to pubescent girls.

...And middle aged men, but he _really_ didn't want to think about that.

Egh.

He returned to the receiver, where Maizono had returned to the receiver, and the noises had become bearable.

 _"_ _Uhm, sorry about that! We, uh... had a bit of a problem, but it's all fixed now!"_ She proclaimed proudly. He blinked, as she continued. " _So, what did you want to say?"_ He coughed in surprise, fumbling for his words.

Right, this was about to be about his confession. He chuckled nervously, before continuing.

"Well, uhm, Maizono-san... I-"

A loud crash suddenly echoed throughout both sides of the receiver, and he shrieked, momentarily dropping the receiver, clattering it to the ground. He whirled away from the object, as he looked for the source of the crash.

His eyesight landed on the grey clouds outside, and he stared in disbelief as the clouds began pouring onto the ground in a heavy fashion, accompanied by a symphony of lightning and thunder. He blinked.

It wasn't supposed to rain today. Quite the opposite, in fact. The forecast predicted sun, all day long.

But, then again, he supposed he shouldn't have trusted a meteorologist to be accurate.

He stared out the window for a few seconds, before he heard the phone, still producing noise. He blanched, before hurriedly picking up the phone and putting it to his ear.

" _Are you okay, Makoto-kun?_ " He heard Maizono ask frantically through receiver, concern lacing her voice. His heart flew at her concern, before he answered.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a thunderstorm that appeared out of nowhere," He laughed, as his brain tried reassembling itself from the situation. Maizono clicked her tongue.

" _Well, I guess that things have been kinda wonky lately over there. Be careful, alright?"_ She asked fervently. He let out a mumble of acceptance, his heart still racing.

"Thanks, Maizono-san," He said gratefully, trailing off into silence. An awkward pause ensued, before Maizono spoke once more.

 _"_ _So, uh, what were you going to tell me?"_ She asked.

In an instant, the butterflies returned, full force, taking up the majority of his stomach space. His smile abruptly faded, and he started sweating profusely, all words disappearing from his mind at an instant. His lips quivered, as his breath escaped his lungs. An awkward silence ensued, as Maizono spoke once more.

" _Uh, Makoto-kun?_ "

Numbly, he raised his hand, and struck himself across the cheek, wincing at the pain. It was an odd wake up tactic, but it worked to an astonishing degree. He quickly returned to the phone, though he was still shaking. He inhaled, then exhaled, still feeling completely nervous.

"Y-yeah! Uh, Maizono-san, I... I have to tell you something..." He stuttered, out, clenching his eyes shut. The silence suddenly took over, as he gathered his nerves into one, antsy bundle known as Makoto Naegi. The line went dead, as Maizono sat, waiting for the brunette to speak. "Maizono-san, I-"

 _Boom._

His toaster exploded into a burst of flames abruptly, setting off his fire alarm into a frenzied mess, as it began alerting to the obvious new presence of fire.

"Oh, _come on_!"

This was getting absurd now.

He shouted a quick apology into the receiver, before rushing off to try and find the nearest fire extinguisher, to make sure his house wouldn't be set ablaze.

* * *

This was _very_ aggravating.

It wasn't even nerve-wracking. It was just plain stupid. How many times had he been interrupted from doing this, anyways? It wasn't even funny. It was idiotic.

Tiredly, he set the extinguisher back on the garage floor, before backpedaling towards the garage door and shutting it, his mind exhausted from the last three attempts. Honestly, his patience was wearing thing. One more thing going wrong, and he'd be ready to scream. As he picked up the phone for the final time, Maizono had noticed his fatigue as well.

 _"_ _Uh, Makoto-kun, are you doing alright?"_ She asked. Her concern was nice, but frankly, he was too tired to care.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Listen, Maizon-"

" _You don't sound well. You should get some sleep,"_ She interrupted him. He smiled, though with grit teeth.

"I'll do that, Maizono-san, but-"

" _And be sure to eat something, too!"_ She hollered through the phone. He sighed.

"Yeah, I will, Maizono-san, but-"

" _Also, I think you should-"_

" _Damn it, Maizono-san, I like you!_ "

That shut her up. His raw, tired revelation that had taken him at least two-and-a-half hours to properly convey. Frankly, he was too annoyed and tired from the last few attempts to bother with subtlety. He would take whatever answer at this point.

Only... the answer never came. It was only dead silence on the receiver, as both people processed the information. Finally, after a while, she started giggling. A sweet, high-pitched frenzy, that made him blush in embarrassment. The giggling continued, as the white hot shame stretched from his cheeks, slowly creeping down his chest. After a while, Maizono grabbed her composure, enough to speak.

 _"_ _I'm... I'm sorry, Makoto-kun... I just didn't expect you do tell me so soon!_ " She laughed from the other end.

Wait.

"You knew?!" He demanded, his voice slightly twinged with anger. Maizono took a pause in her laughing to respond.

 _"_ _Makoto-kun, you're cute and you're smart, but you can't keep secrets. Or hide your thoughts,"_ She said merrily, still cracking up. He would've been offended, if he wasn't tired beyond all belief. In fact, it took him a few minutes to even process the sentence.

"Wait... what?"

A sigh on the other end.

 _"_ _I. Think. You're. Cute, Makoto-kun. I like you, too,"_ was her overly simplified answer, spelt out in clear words. He was too tired to be surprised by anything anymore. He just needed a nap.

"Oh..." was all he said, before it trailed off into silence once more. "Sorry I'm being so quiet... I'm kinda tired right now..." He whispered. Maizono laughed.

" _It's okay, Makoto-kun..."_ was her response, as the conversation trailed off into awkward silence. He absentmindedly twirled the phone cord with one hand, awaiting for a response. It took five minutes for her to think of another conversation. "... _Do you want to go on a date, when I return from this trip?"_ She asked.

"...I'd like that a lot, actually," He said, smiling. Maizono laughed.

" _Okay! Well, I've gotta go, Makoto-kun. I'll see you soon, alright?"_ She said. He smiled.

"Stay safe... Sayaka-chan,"

" _Sleep tight!"_

The landline went dead, as he stared at it. Apathetically, he hung up the receiver, before backtracking, and walking towards the couch, as if the entire past day hadn't happened. Let it be clear, however, he knew that Maizono was now his girlfriend of sorts, and he was very happy about it. He was just tired from the whole ordeal, and still very confused at why his bad luck blocked him for so long.

Which explained why he was surprised when she stood on his doorstep at the first thing the next morning, launching herself at him, arms outstretched, butterfly kisses at the ready.

* * *

 **Poor Naegi. Ah well, at least it had a happy ending.  
Apologies for the delays, by the way. My computer suffered a hard drive failure, and I had to take it in for repairs. Luckily I had the prompts stored elsewhere, and I'm still able to continue (though my progress on chapter 14 and 15 were lost... probably for the better.). Nevertheless, things should return to normal.  
This turned out to be way more comedic than I anticipated. Oh, and it's filled with a bunch of my random ideas for the warriors of hope in an non-despair universe. Being annoying, but adorable, little brats** **. Pauses is based off of getting interrupted and being forced to stop, as Makoto is constantly forced to do, sometimes intentionally, sometimes unintentionally.**  
 **pauses  
: temporary stops : periods of time in which something is stopped before it is started again  
: a control that you use when you want to stop a recorded song, movie, etc., for a short time  
** _ **music**_ **: the sign that is placed over or under a musical note, rest, etc., to show that it should be held longer than usual**


	15. Affront

**(As of Jan 2, 2017, a portion of this story has been rewritten)  
** ** **(Oh, hey there. Apologies for the delay once more. School's started up. Expect some delayed chapters once more. Thanks for all your reviews, favourites and follows once more.)****

* * *

 **Chapter 15: Affront  
Rating: T**

Of all the people in his class, he had to be stuck with her.

"Jeez, you're sure like to talk a lot."

He rolled his eyes, as he tuned his attention, and senses, away from the girl, much to her displeasure.

"Rei Ayanami expy much? Spoiler alert, Naegi, but _I'm_ the one with blue hair. Not you," She continued on, uncaring of his state. He clicked his tongue, but refused to say anything.

Because, really, what else could he say to her? She was the Ultimate Fanfic Creator, for fuck's sake. And here he was, a pro baseball player, sitting at the complete opposite end of the spectrum. Highschool specifically divided them into two groups. The nerds, and the jocks. They just fell on the opposite sides of the popularity chart.

"Man, for a supposed baseball guy who's cool with the ladies, you're good at keeping your mouth shut. Should try teaching it to your teammates, though. Poor sportsmanship is nuts!"

He clutched the baseball bat he toted in frustration, trying his best not to whack the girl over the head with the piece of aluminum. After all, they weren't in some sort of survival game, like in Battle Royale, or something like that. He doesn't want to get put away for murder, no matter how annoying the girl would get.

He briefly tuned into what the blue-haired girl was spouting about, before tuning straight back out. They all dealt with animes that were running, and guesses about a strange show about teenagers being shut in a highschool and forced to kill each other.

What an idiotic concept.

Damnit, how did he even get stuck in detention with her in the first place?

Immediately, the thought of striking an argument up with the smallest, and strongest, student in their class, popped into his mind, and he groaned. Right, that was why. Fujisaki was being annoying, so he started arguing with him. A few punches, a few thrown desks, and he was forced to spend detention here for the next few months as punishment.

Her? He didn't know, nor care. She was just here when he was shoved in, and she just wouldn't. Be. Quiet.

"Man, you _really_ screwed up, trying to pick a fight with the Ultimate Fighter. What, did you think Fujisaki was just gonna take that lying down?" She asked mockingly, her face pinched oddly. He slammed his free hand on the desk, sending dust in the air.

That was it.

Immediately, he shot up, a fiery glare in his eyes, as he whirled towards Maizono, who was staring at him, her head tilted slightly, an unamused expression on her face. He raised the bat to rest, level with her face, as he spoke, a steely edge to it.

"Maizono, shut your trap, else I'll rip your head off with this bat," He threatened. Maizono chuckled, rolling her eyes. His eye twitched, as he desperately refrained from following up on his threat. The girl shrugged, a sardonic grin on her face.

"Naegi, we both know that you can't hurt me. I'm too much of a pretty face for your playboy ways to hit~" She said in a faux sweet voice, before coughing with laughter, before continuing. "Nah, just fucking with ya. We both know I'd never date you. Also, you'd be found straight away if you tried killing me. Who else has your exact skill set, the history, and the opportunity?" She questioned, the grin widening. He clicked his tongue, dropping the bat. As much as he hated to agree with her, she was right. There was no fathomable away he could do anything.

The bell suddenly rung, and he threw his hands in the air. It was his turn to smile, now. He was officially allowed to leave detention now. He immediately threw on his backpack, before rushing out the room, the door swinging ajar in his wake.

Thank god for small amounts of detention. He only had to spend an hour and a half, sitting with the annoying fanfic creator known as Sayaka Maizono.

But, as he left, he heard her shout after him.

"Hey, Naegi, don't get too excited. After all, you've got three months, and guess who's going be here every single day, after class,"

He froze, as Maizono laughed.

"See ya tomorrow, Naegi," was all she said, before she brushed past him, disappearing around the corner.

* * *

"Having fun sitting in detention with the ultimate fanfic creator?"

Naegi scowled at the boy who sat across from him, his caramel hair pushed backwards. He stretched his muscles, as he ran his hand through his hair, still damp with chlorinated water from his swim trips. The ones he got so famous for, and was the very reason why he was in Hope's Peak Academy.

"Hell no. She's just... nuts," He snorted, as he bit into a sandwich, munching thoroughly, trying to ignore the throngs of people that surrounded the two of them. After all, the ultimate baseball player and ultimate swimmer eating lunch together? It was every fangirl's dream. The swimmer, Mondo Oowada, stared at him oddly, as he dug into his own lunch. Oowada furrowed his brow, as he pressed his friend for more.

"What do you mean?" He pried, as he rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension from his joints, eliciting a few squeals from the crowd. He shrugged, swallowing the bits of food, before continuing.

"Nuts. Crazy. You know what I'm saying. I mean, she just shrugged off being threatened by a baseball bat! Who _does_ that?! Not to mention... She's been saying some really cryptic shit, that no one gets," he groused out, shutting the lunch bag, zipping it shut. Oowada stared at him.

"You... threatened her?"

He rolled his eyes.

"That's beside the point. She's just so strange. I dunno what to even say to her anymore," He wondered aloud, as he stood up, the bell ringing for the next period to commence, the fangirls beginning to be herded away from the two. Oowada shrugged.

"Eh, you'll think up something. Your brain's got a few cells left from all those concussions," He japed, dodging the swipe of Makoto's hand.

"Whatever. Let's just go to the next class,"

One week had passed.

One week of listening to her drabble on, without any care.

"Eh, you'll talk to me soon enough. Either out of insanity or out of boredom. You always have," She declared boredly, tapping the buttons of her gameboy. He growled, clawing at his thinning patience.

One week never passed by so slowly.

As much as he hated to admit it, she was right, to some degree. His short amount of patience was working wonders on his temper. Combinng that with Maizono's gadfly tendencies, and you had a recipe for disaster.

Mainly the disaster of his temper boiling over, about to explode.

He grit his teeth tensely, as he clutched the aluminum bat with a fervor, desperately clinging onto his cool attitude, trying to calm himself down.

Almost there...

Almost there...

"Oi, pretty boy, quit with the storm clouds. You're ruining the sun outside,"

Damn it, that was it.

He stood up, an angry glare on his face. A low, guttural growl in his voice, as he slowly crawled his way over to her desk, on the opposite side of the room. The blue-haired girl actually paused, a look of actual fear on her face, as she gulped it down.

"Uh, are you alright, Makoto?" She asked uncertainly, staring at him with actual interest, and perhaps a twinge of terror. He said nothing, as he slowly stalked closer towards her, the bat raised upright. She tensed up, speaking up once more. "Earth to Makoto Naegi, wake up-"

He screamed, before bringing the bat as hard as he could. Luckily, Maizono had the foresight to be prepared for this situation, as she leapt backwards. The bat slammed against the wooden desk, splintering it, as he breathed heavily.

"Jesus christ, what the hell, Naegi?!" She cursed out, astonished. By this point, the severity of his actions had sunk into his brain. He growled in shame, as he pulled the bat from the indentation, glancing away.

"Sorry about that. I got a bit too angry," He admitted. She snorted.

"A 'little'," She repeated mockingly, but winced when she saw his look of regret. "Nah, there's no harm done at all. I'm still in one piece, and that's all that matters," She finished, glancing down at the desk. "You're paying for that, by the way," She added on as an afterthought. He simply nodded, as his deep breathing continued, the spots beginning to swim into his vision. He began teetering on his feet, which Maizono noticed.

"You might wanna sit down."

He personally agreed with that. A lot. He collapsed on the desk adjacent to the destroyed one, as he tried recollecting his breath. He heard rummaging, before he felt something press into his hands. He glanced down, and was surprised to see a water bottle.

"Drink up," was her only response. He nodded, unscrewing the cap and downing it in an instant, the quenching feeling of water sliding his throat, as the stuffiness cleared from his head. He glanced up, and was surprised to see Maizono watching him, looking almost... concerned? For him?

Nah, there was no way. She was probably just trying to cover her own ass.

The bell rang, signalling the end of school. He sighed, as he stood up, much more stable this time. "Thanks," Was all he said, tossing the empty bottle back at the fanfiction creator, before he tottered out the room.

* * *

Asahina spit out the water she was drinking, spraying him in the process. He could only look at the luckster in annoyance, as she hastily cleaned her mouth with a napkin, before offering it to Naegi, which he declined politely. The girl blushed in embarassment, pulling up her hood in the process so he couldn't see her look of shame.

"Thanks for that," He commented dryly, cleaning himself off. Asahina shook her head, as she spoke.

"I can't believe it. You _broke_ a desk?!" She repeated once more incredulously.

His next words came, filled with sarcasm. "I thought you processed that clearly. Otherwise you wouldn't have sprayed water on me."

She coughed in surprise, before continuing. "Seriously, Makoto, you should get that checked with a therapist," He rolled his eyes.

"Whatever."

Asahina shook her head. "Anyway, what happened next?" She pried.

He blinked.

"Well, uh, I kinda nearly passed out from shock. Maizono gave me water, and I drank some, gave some back," He said. Asahina blinked.

"Wait, Sayaka Maizono?"

"Who else?"

"Oh. Just wondering. You _do_ remember that she's in our class, right?" She asked curiously.

 _How could I forget?_ was his scathing response, but he bit his tongue. The luckster continued, oblivious to his discomfort. "Huh. Never pegged her as the type to get shafted in detention," She wondered aloud. He rolled his eyes, before packing away his lunch box.

"Well, she's there now. And I've gotta deal with her," He groaned out. Asahina, however, wasn't as pessimistic as him.

"Hey, watch it. She's a good person, and a good friend," She said dangerously. He was tempted to point out that the luckster was friends with everyone in their class, but refrained from doing so.

And he also didn't want to point out that he knew that what Asahina had said was true, if only for the latter half. To an eerily high degree.

"Yeah, sure, I'll keep that in mind," He responded, as the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch.

* * *

That day, he finally found something to talk to her about.

"Why'd you help me?"

The answer was simple, yet sardonic.

"Easy. You looked like shit."

He snorted at the unrefined words, but he wasn't surprised. Unrefined words for an unrefined girl, after all. Nevertheless, he decided to continue the train of thought. It was better than losing his mind to her rambling about anime and video games, after all.

"But, still. You didn't have any reason to help me. I've done nothing good to you. Never have," He argued. She rolled her eyes.

"News flash, Naegi, but not everyone operates like rival athletes, nor hold gigantic, year-long grudges. Generally, people don't have ulterior motives when helping others. Generally, we're taught with the simple principles of 'don't be a dick'."

He couldn't help but snort at it. He was used to crass language, but never used to its full comedic potential. She rolled her eyes once more.

"Now you start laughing," She muttered under her breath, before yawning and turning back. He blinked in surprise, watching her plug in headphones and pull them over her ears, her eyes fixiated to the screen of her cellphone. He could hear soft music playing, and he couldn't help but be intrigued by whatever she was watching. Perplexed, he slowly slid over from desk to desk, away from the window, and closer to the blue-haired girl. As he did, he noticed the screen continue, playing whatever it was playing. In it, he saw three characters- one raven-haired with an eyepatch, the other two amber-haired- walk down the street.

" _What_ are you watching?" He couldn't help but ask.

"Tokyo Ghoul," was the prompt response, her attention still focused. He couldn't help but roll his eyes. Another anime, huh? She didn't grow up.

Then the blood started splattering everywhere.

He flinched in surprise, pulling up the bat on instinct, as the red, viscous fluid filled up the tiny screen, bubbling as if put over a fire. The amount of blood that sprayed on the screen was copious, even absurd, but it still continued regardless. As he watched with morbid horror, he saw her laugh silently, before pausing the video and pocketing it. He spoke the first thing that came to mind.

"What the hell was that?!"

She snickered before replying. "Like I said, tokyo ghoul. What, expected some sort of kiddie show?" She asked snidely, pocketing the earbuds. He didn't want to say anything, but yes, he definitely did. In any case, the look on his face was enough to convince her. "News flash, Naegi, but anime ain't like that," She said simply, standing up and pulling on her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. "Later, Naegi."

He was too surprised to argue, the bell ringing in his ears.

"Wait, did you foolishly believe that anime was just composed of entirely childish ideas and concepts?"

He rolled his eyes, as he stared at the person opposite of him, her sleek lavender locks draping down her shoulder evenly, though an elegant air still pursued her, and filled the extravagant fuschia clothes that she eyed with distaste.

"Hey, I'm not entirely at fault here. All I saw as a kid were those really childish ones. Y'know, the one for kids," He responded promptly. Kirigiri shrugged, sipping her Earl Grey Tea with a dainty gloved hand, before staring at him with the same, dull lavender eyes.

"Still, it's best to keep an open mind, and be privvy to all its mechanisms, so you aren't ambushed by a new concept, and tossed aside by life," She advised sagely. He only rolled his eyes, not entirely understanding of his friend's sentences. But, that was to be expected of the Affluent Progeny. She knew much more than everyone. Thankfully she wasn't pretentious.

God only knows how that would've turned out.

"Yeah-"

"'Whatever'," Kirigiri replied mockingly, correctly guessing his train of thought before he'd spoken. "You prefer that term quite a lot, Naegi. I'm astonished that the general public haven't commented about it yet," She mused, the tea halfway drained out of her cup. He rolled his eyes, but refrained from rebutting her statement. They both knew it was true, anyway.

"Huh. Colour me intrigued. Never would've thought that she had some mental complexity to her," He mused to himself. Kirigiri rolled her eyes.

"I'm astonished that you're intrigued, Naegi. You're more intimate with her than anyone else in this school, if your past is anything to go by," She mused aloud. He froze, before fixing Kirigiri with a nervous glare.

"How the hell do you know about that?" He demanded, his voice wavering slightly. Kirigiri only smiled oddly, before emptying her cup.

"In any case, suffice it to say that your friendship is salvageable. Just believe in yourself a bit more,"

He didn't respond, whatsoever. He just kept his eyes entrained on the heiress, but no more was said. The lilac-haired teenager just sighed and walked away, still toting the mug in her hand.

The bell rang in his ears dully, but he didn't know what to do or say. All he could do was watch with blank eyes, the bell still ringing in his ears.

* * *

The words still rang in his ears, even after this time. It burrowed into his ears, but he paid it no mind, as he kept his line of sight straight ahead. The silence engulfed his ears and eyes like a heavy fog. His eyes were glassed over, as he could barely concentrate.

But the words still blared in his mind like a neon sign.

 _Damnit Kirigiri, why are you so fucking smart?_

That heiress' brain was probably thrice the size of everyone else's, and her dry quips came with that.

Unfortunately, they were usually correct.

Because he _was_ rather friendly with her before. Back in middle school, before he picked up baseball, and before she became such a nerd. They were two normal kids in the same class. They struck a normal friendship, and they talked to each other about random things, and school work. He'd like to think that she was a good listener, and he vented frequently. Even when he grew more popular, she still spoke to him. Mainly because he wasn't a jock yet. Just a nice guy.

Then he picked up baseball, and she found out how to write. He'd never seen two people split so fast before, but that's what happened. It only took one meeting for them to realize that they were on opposite sides of the spectrum.

And that was the end of it.

Well, middle school.

As he yawned, he wondered what would happen now. They were evidently five times as far into speaking with each other than previously in the year. They actually

"Arise and shine, dirtbag."

He opened his eyes and craned his neck upward. Maizono stood in front of him, hands resting on her posterior, a look of piqued curiosity on her face. He rolled his eyes.

"What's got you in a preppy mood, anime update for you?" He sniped. Her face brightened slightly.

"Actually, yeah. Also found out a few of my predictions for who was innocent were right too, but that's not the point! Point is, you're napping."

He raised an eyebrow.

"And...?" He prodded further. She broke into a wide-faced grin.

"Duh, you can't be sleeping! Not in this hellspawn of a place. Entertain me, or something," She demanded in a falsely snooty voice. He would've been offended, had she not immediately burst into a fit of giggles afterwards, clearly conveying the joking nature of her statement. He chuckled along.

"I'm afraid, dear lady, that I lack limbs to entertain you with," He replied mockingly, and they both laughed along, as he flailed his limbs around in an exaggerated fashion, their earlier animosity fading slightly.

"Well, i'm sorry to hear your loss. Although, I'm astounded. How do you ever play baseball, good sir?" She asked, pantomiming an intrigued expression. In the back of his head, he realized that she was referencing his talent, and he spoke back.

"With these stumps, obviously," He flexed his muscles jokingly, before dropping them. "Alright, enough of that," He said, cutting an abrupt end to their faked conversation. Maizono pouted, before sitting down in the chair in front of him, rotating her body to face him. They dropped into awkward silence, and he squirmed as she kept his gaze on him, diverting his eyes.

" _Why is her stare so naturally... piercing?"_ He wondered oddly, as he glanced back, Maizono glancing upwards. They sat in silence for two more minutes, before she finally spoke up once more.

"Hey, Naegi?"

"Mmph."

"Why'd you go for baseball?"

He blinked. He didn't expect that question, whatsoever. He blinked, fumbling for the answer to her question, which laid dormant in his brain, somewhere. Finally, he dug it up, amidst the rubble that were his long term memories.

"Oh. Uh... I just... wanted to get better at something," He admitted. It was her turn to blink, surprised.

"Come again?"

He coughed, the heat rising to his ears, belatedly realizing how lame it sounded when he actually spoke. "Er, I just wanted to pick up a sport. I got a lot better at it, and one day, I just picked up the letter in the mail," He said. "Not very exciting, I know, but, uh, yeah..."

They trailed off into awkward silence once more. _"_ _Real smooth, Makoto,"_ he thought annoyedly to himself, as she spoke once more.

"Oh. Well, I feel obligated to tell you now," She said awkwardly, trying to dilute the silence, "I was just bored, really. I didn't have much to do at school, so I tried writing about a show I saw. It got really popular, and I decided to keep going. Next thing you know, I'm sitting on a few hundred stories. Got my own letter a few days later," She replied.

"Still a better reason than mine," He snorted, and they laughed once more, equal grins on their faces.

The bell rang.

He glanced up in surprise. Had it really been an hour and a half? He didn't realize that the time had flown by so quickly. Usually the hours spent in the detention room was hell on earth, as there was nothing to entertain him, but with him and Maizono on amiable terms, the time passed by much quicker than before. He stood up, his backpack resting on his shoulders.

"Well, I've gotta go now. See ya, Maizono," He said amicably, treading off. As he was leaving, however, he heard her call after him.

"Wait!"

He threw a glance back. "What?"

She paused, as if searching for a set of words to say. Finally, after a while, she glanced up, a genuine smile on her face. "Thanks for talking again. Feels just like old times, huh?" She said conversationally. He nodded, a smile on his face.

"Yeah, I guess," he replied, before walking out the door.

* * *

"You're definitely in a much better mood than before," Taeko Yasuhiro mused, her hand resting on her chin, an elegant smile on her face. He shrugged.

"Really? I didn't notice," He said, munching on his sandwich as he eyed the gothic pop idol with a bit of caution to his body language. However, deception didn't seem to be on her mind, for once. Instead, a genuine expression sat on her face. One of... happiness? It seemed unfathomable for the doll-faced girl to pull off such an expression, but here she was, an actual smile, not faked. She nodded.

"Indeed. Strange. I'd assume that detention would cause the opposite effect, yet here you are, with the biggest smile I've ever seen. It's so bright, I might even get a sunburn from it," She said dryly, eating a few crackers. He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, sure, go ahead and mock me all you want," He retorted, still eating his lunch, not the least bit offended. After all, he'd rekindled an old friendship, even if it was slightly recent. What else could be better? Yasuhiro laughed.

"So, I'm assuming that you've met someone in detention that's sparked your interest," She mused, confidence imprinted in her voice. It was a factual statement, not a hypothesis. He nodded.

"Well, more like re-introduced myself," He said in slight rebuttal. A knowing gleam entered Yasuhiro's eye.

"Maizono Sayaka, I presume."

He spat out the fruit punch that was sloshing in his mouth, aimed at the ground, hydrating the grass where he spat it out, before glancing up sharply. "How'd you know?" He demanded, his gaze sharpening. Yasuhiro snorted crassly.

"I've done my research on our classmates, Naegi. That includes you. I know that both of you were acquaintances in middle school. It was a natural assumption," She said. He felt chills run down his spine. Research? On him? It was scary to think about. Nevertheless, he swallowed it down, and nodded.

"Yeah, it's Maizono. Got a problem with it?" He shot at her, a glare on his face. She shook her head.

"No, no, not at all. I'm just more intrigued at something," She admitted. He scanned her face and body language for any sign of a fib, but nothing showed. At least, none that he saw.

"Shoot."

"Alright," She looked at him, square in the eye. "Why is Maizono in detention?"

He blinked.

"What?" He asked flatly. She snorted.

"Why is Maizono in detention? I tried to get some information from Ikusaba and Enoshima, but even _they_ don't know anything. It's been covered up more than any conspiracy that I've seen," She mused. He blinked, trying to come up with an argument against her point. However, nothing came to mind. Belatedly, he realized that he never asked why Maizono was stuck in the room with her.

"You know... I don't know," He answered, looking thoughtful. "I'll ask," He resolved. Yasuhiro smiled.

The bell rang.

There was only one problem.

He didn't know what to do.

He groaned inaudibly, staring at the desk he sat at with extreme interest, counting the various lines that sat on top of the slab of dead tree. When he resolved to ask Maizono about her own school history, he realized that he just... couldn't bring it up. He didn't know why; he had interjected at much more inappropriate times than this, so this should be easy, right?

Wrong.

The words just stuck in his throat. He just... couldn't bring it up.

He groaned. Some kind of confidence he had.

"Oi, Naegi, wake up."

He blinked, his vision clearing up. Maizono stared at him, slightly concerned and slightly curious. Her head was tilted to the side, and her lips pressed into a thin line, like she always di-

 _Damnit, Makoto, stop getting too sentimental._

He focused on the spaces around her, giving the impression that he was staring at her, when the reality was far from it, as she spoke once more. "You alright?"

His response was short, sweet and succinct.

"Yes."

"Pfft, you sure as hell don't look it. Whiter than a piece of chalk, you are," She declared, pushing out the seat in front of him, sitting down, and swivelling that she faced him. "What's got ya bugged?" She asked, resting her head on her forearms. He shook his head.

"It's nothing, Maizono. Just... I don't want to talk about it,"

Hah, this was pathetic. He was reverting back to his old speech patterns. The polite and timid middle schooler that he was so desperate to ditch was slowly manifesting once more. But he couldn't do anything about it. Evidently, Maizono had noticed it as well.

"Right. Well, speak up when ya need to," She tossed out, plopping into the seat beside him, pulling out the pair of earbuds and phone from yesterday, plugging them in, and immersing herself into a video once more, as she had for the last two months. As she did this, however, he stared with a curious eye. The more time he spent, stuck in detention with her, the more curious he got about his former friend's life.

Specifically, Yasuhiro's question. How _did_ she get stuck in detention? From what he remembered, she was about as close to an angel as you could get. Sure, anime and manga probably diluted that somewhat, but he had enough faith in common sense to dictate that she wouldn't divert her ways towards it so easily. That was hardly a recipe for a girl stuck in detention, presumably longer than he has.

So... what gives?

Now curious, he poked the girl in the side, gaining a slight squeal and glare in the process, though she popped her earbuds quickly.

"Oi, mate, what gives?!" She spat out. He stared at her in surprise, before the question naturally wormed its way into his mouth.

"What did you do to get in detention?"

She blinked, stunned. He couldn't help but snort internally; did she _not_ expect the question to come? That was stupid. Minus three IQ points for her, he supposed. But he was still curious. So, he reiterated his own question. "Why are you in detention, Maizono? You didn't strike me as the kind to get stuck in here," He said. Much to his surprise, she didn't answer. Instead, an unfamiliar emotion crept onto her face. One that turned it into a snarl, her brow furrowed together. He blinked.

Anger?

She abruptly stood up in tandem with the bell.

"Nothing happened, Naegi. Leave it at that," Was all she said, rushing out the room without a second thought. He stared at her retreating figure, even more suspicious than ever. That was _not_ something that he expected.

He sighed.

"Well, guess I've decided," He mumbled to himself, using his bat as a makeshift cane, stretching to his full height.

Time to do some searching.

* * *

"Bastard, I haven't a fucking clue why you've come crawling back here so soon."

He grit his teeth. _Don't lose your temper. Not with this stupid half-pint_

"Save it, Fujisaki, I'm not here for pleasantries. Just tell me what I need to know," He ground out. The slight boy snorted, an annoyed look on his face.

"Bitch, I don't own you shit. Not since you fucking attacked me with that damn chair," He cussed. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm already paying for that, alright? Now, just tell me, what did Maizono do to get into detention? I know you have all the connections in this school," He said, trying to muster all his threatening presence to intimidate the smaller boy. It failed, miserably. Fujisaki only laughed.

"Oh, that's rich! Baseball-ass thinks he's better than me, eh?" The pumpkin-haired boy crowed, "C'mon, asshat. Let's go, right now," He said gleefully, rubbing his hands with anticipation.

He took a deep breath, calming his growing anger. It was not a good idea to pick a fight with the ultimate fighter. He knows this from experience. He didn't need to make the same mistake twice. Once he was sufficiently calmed, he glanced at Fujisaki.

"I don't have time for this, Fujisaki. Just tell me what I need to know," He reiterated. Fujisaki blinked in surprise, before snorting.

"Jesus fucking christ, what happened to you? You used to be even more hotheaded than I was, for fuck's sake," He noted sardonically, glaring at him, his fists and arms tensed. Naegi blinked.

He didn't realize it, but Fujisaki was right. He hadn't truly swore lost his temper for a few months now. Ever since...

Ever since he started actually talking to Maizono.

He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to reflect on his own past deeds. He glanced at Fujisaki, almost pleadingly.

"C'mon, Fujisaki, please. I need to know this."

The fighter stared at him, stunned beyond disbelief. His jaw hung loose, as he stared at the baseball player with dull eyes. Finally, after ten minutes of impatient tapping, Fujisaki spoke, though he struggled for words.

"You... you used... manners... uh... right. Uhm... Maizono was hanging out with our seniors one week, and they got busted for possession," He struggled out. He stared at him, surprised.

"Possession?" He asked.

"Illegal substances, fuckwad. They were carrying LSD, meth, weed, heroin, ecstasy, _everything_ you can think of. Maizono was tagging along when they got raided, and she got off on a technicality. Didn't stop the school from smacking her with the rest of the semester worth of detentions. She's been in there all year,"

It was his turn to be stunned now. Maizono, with their seniors? That was something that he never expected. The seventy-seventh class was full of so-called weirdos. Even if his cousin, Hajime, was in there, and he knew that the seventy-seventh students weren't all that bad, it didn't stop the stigma from following them, wherever they went. He knew this. Everyone in their class knew this. Maizono was no exception. Why would she go out with them, then? When he voiced this to Fujisaki, he laughed bitterly.

"Fuck if I know. I just know this 'cause my cousin in seventy-seventh told me about it," He said, standing up. "Fuck it. I'm out," He groused, standing up. "Later, Naegi," He abruptly left, leaving Naegi to his thoughts. Now, he was both curious, and concerned.

Maizono, hanging out with the seniors. It scared him to think about. That wasn't a healthy thing to do, especially if they could be as dangerous as what Fujisaki implied. But she did, anyway. Now, one question blared in his mind.

Why?

The bell rang, signalling the end of period.

* * *

"Why were you with our seniors?"

She blinked.

"What?"

"Why were you hanging out with the seniors? You know they're bad news arund this school, Maizono, and I'm fairly certain you're smarter than that. So, let me say again: why were you hanging out with them?"

She squirmed uncomfortably, glancing away from his gaze, slowly backing away from him. However, he wasn't one to be deterred. As she took one step back, he took one step forward. If she took one to the right, then so did he. Soon, they were backed into a corner, no less spaced apart than they had been fifteen minutes earlier. His gaze softened.

"C'mon, Maizono, what gives? I know you're not stupid. Why'd you risk something like that?"

No answer. He bit down his impatience, as he slowly covered the gap between them, inching closer using microscopic steps. He felt her breath speed up, growing shallower with each step. He saw the sweat glistening off her forehead, her body tensing up.

"Maizono, just tell me. Why hang out with the seniors?"

"Because I had no choice!"

They both looked surprised, despite one being the person to say It. Immediately, Maizono slapped her hands over her mouth, but it was too late. He had sensed a breach, and he seized it as fast as he could, taking a quick step towards her.

"What do you mean, you 'had no choice'?" He pressed, leaning in. No reply. He growled in a false display of anger. " _Spill_ , Maizono," He snarled. She stood there, a blank look on her face.

Then, she growled.

He took a step back, surprised at her sudden hostility, as a look of anger flooded her face. She leaned forwards, the sunlight casting a shadow on her face.

"You want to know why?" She asked bitterly, taking a step forward. The same situation, but reversed this time. Now He was the one on the retreat, as she slowly walked towards him. "You want to know why I was sitting with those assholes called our seniors, while they mixed every drug imaginable?"

With each passing word, her voice grew elevated, dripping more rage, as wrath filled her expression. He gulped inaudibly "You want to know why I was fined by the police? Why I'm stuck in detention for the rest of the year?! _Well, do you?!"_ She snarled out, her expression now manic. He really didn't anymore, but she continued regardless.

" _Because of you, Naegi!"_

She abruptly cut off her movements, and she began gasping for air, as her last words slowly sunk into his mind. Because of him? What did that mean? They hadn't even begun interacting in class until they both got sent to detention. There wasn't a reasonable answer for why she said what she said.

At least, he thought. When he asked her what she meant, he got a very different answer.

Maizono laughed bitterly, now fully recovered. "Naegi, you left me in the _dust_ when you became a baseball star and the most popular kid in our grade. I couldn't keep up, and you just ditched me," She said coldly, as he froze. "I had nothing better to do, so I picked up writing about stories I liked. Give them different endings. Play with pre-established characters. I didn't want to end up with the talent of 'famous fanfic writer'!" Each and every word spat out of her tongue like a glob of acid, burning through her stomach. "But I did, anyway. When I saw you in my class, I was excited. I thought we could talk again. But nope. You ditched me again, like in middle school. I didn't have any friend to talk to for the entire first term. And no, Asahina doesn't count; she's friends with everbody."

He shut his mouth, too stunned to speak. She continued, oblivious. "No one bothered to talk to me. Not even Yamada or Enoshima. They just looked at me weirdly. So, I was desperate. Sue me, alright?" Her voice had a raw edge to it, her emotions tumbling forth. Anger. Regret. Sorrow. "With nothing better to do, I tried my hand at becoming friends with the seniors. They knew something like it. The feeling of alienation, I mean. So, I tagged along. Then, a month later, they were busted for drugs. And now, here we are," She finished grandly, her arms outstretched as if she were a ballerina doing pirouettes, and using er arms for balance.

He was stunned. Unbelievably so. His brain had slowed beyond movement, laying dormant in his brain. He couldn't even struggle to form words, they just stirred amongst themselves in the bottom of his throat, clogging it like a sewer pipe. Maizono went quiet, her outburst now dormant in her mind. She clasped her hands together, staring at him with a critical eye. Finally, after ten minutes, he spoke.

"I... I didn't know that," He struggled out. Maizono shook her head.

"No one did, except for Hajime, Chiaki, and Headmaster Kirigiri," She said, opening an eye. "There you go. Ya happy?" She asked sardonically. He glanced down, ashamed of himself. Some kind of a person he was. He didn't even care about his former friend, leaving her to fend for herself, while he basked in the attention from his fanclubs and his sponsors.

"I'm sorry about that," He said, earnestly and forgivingly, glancing down, his ears bright red with shame. Maizono smiled.

"It's all good." His head snapped up at her words.

"Wha-?"

"It's. All. Good." She repeated slowly, giving him an incredulous look, before she yawned. "Damn, that was a lot more tiring than I expected it to," She muttered under her breath, about to doze off again. However, Naegi was too fast for her.

"I'm sorry, but I call bullshit on that," He said flatly, furrowing his brow. She blinked, flicking her head to stare at him, her eyebrow arched in confusion. Seeing the confusion evident in her expression, he elaborated. "Sayaka, frankly, I treated you like garbage these last few years. Absolutely worthless. I don't think that you'd forgive me that easily," He said bluntly, his voice peaking slightly. He laughed. "Hell, nobody can recover from that, right?"

In her opinion, the question was directed to himself more than her.

"So... what gives?" He growled out, standing up with an odd expression on his face, "Why are you so willing to forgive and forget? Are you naive? Am I overthinking this? What's happening? I don't even know," He began to chuckle mirthlessly, as if his rambling had become some sort of joke. She frowned.

"Man, you've got some problems, huh?" She whispered to herself, shaking her head. "Is it really so hard to believe it?" Naegi blinked, turning to face her. "Naegi, not all of us are born to be assholes," She said, crinkling her nose as her words suddenly rang in her mind. Perhaps that wasn't the best way to word it. "Some people are actually nice, as odd as that may seem," She shrugged. "I've come to terms with it. It's been _two_ years. You can't hold a grudge that long!" She said exasperatedly, throwing her hands into the air.

Naegi was flabbergasted. "But-"

" _Enough,_ Naegi." He promptly shut up as Maizono gave him the iciest glare she could muster up, which, in all honesty, wasn't that impressive. "I forgive you. Is it that hard to believe? Or would you prefer it if I hated you?" She quipped, her face pulled into a disapproving, condescending look. "Honestly. Stop acting so masochistic, and _accept my damn forgiveness._ "

All went silent after that. She turned back to her own phone, immersed in another world once more, leaving Naegi to his thoughts. He frowned as he began to go over them.

What _did_ he believe anyway? Was he truly clinging to the ideal that they had to hate each other? That couldn't be, right? He made sure he had removed that idea from his mind at the end of middle school, so... what was he so fervently clinging to? Why was he being so adamant about this?

He shook the thoughts out of the head. _Damnit. I'm going to have a headache_ he grumbled in his mind, slowly wilting and crumpling to his desk, groaning into his sleeve.

"You feelin' good over there?" He heard Maizono call out, concern twinging her voice.

Concern?

 _Oh, right..._ He thought to himself. _We're friends now._

Friends.

"Oi, Naegi," Maizono piped up once more. She heard some chuckling coming from his slumped-over form. "Wha-"

"Hey, Maizono?" She jumped slightly at her name, her gaze snapping to Naegi, still laying dormant in his detention desk.

She tilted her head. "Yeah?"

With one motion, Naegi picked his head off of the desk and craned it to face her. She blinked as she was faced with... gratitude. There was no other word to explain it. Gratitude and a childlike innocence, unbefitting of Naegi's previously crude personality. He smiled.

"Thanks."

She chuckled. "Anytime." **  
**

* * *

 **Well then, I've made fourteen chapters of them being acquaintances, friends, or even married, but I haven't made a chapter where they started off with a 'distaste' for each other. Better change that.  
Alright this idea just popped up whilst I was sitting in art class and I felt like it merited a chapter. I, for some reason, really enjoyed the concept of a 'nerdy' Maizono. While it's true that she might have some interests, she doesn't really speak much of them, unless they are music related. By removing her burden as an idol, then her personality growth is vastly set off course. She becomes more playful, carefree, and excitable, but she also becomes more irresponsible in the process. Same with Naegi. By removing his self-deprecation and low confidence, associated with Ultimate Luck, he's more arrogant. Frustratable. Angrish. However, he's also confident and charming in the process. Both sides contain pros and cons, that lead to very different personalities, but still containing a hint of who they were.  
Also, this is completely random, but I've only recently found out that I've been mispronouncing Sayaka's first name. Apparently the second syllable is the one being stressed, not the first. Sa-YA-ka, and not SA-ya-ka (although I'm assuming that both options are valid pronounciations). Food for thought.**  
 **Yeah, there wasn't any way I could make them hate each other without a talent swap AU. At least, not to a believable degree. So, that's what I did. I think my pacing was rather odd, but eh.** _ **  
**_ **And, finally, updates from here on out will be delayed (even more than usual). Damn school. And other ideas that rattle in my head.  
EDIT (Jan 1, 2017): Re-did the ending. It bugged me about how... abruptly it ended. Tried to remedy it.**  
 **affront  
: to do or say something that shows a lack of respect for (someone or someone's feelings)**


	16. Run

**(Here's a chapter, earlier than usual. Shorter too, but I think it's still as good as my others. Once again, thank you for all your favourites, reviews and follows!)**

* * *

 **Chapter 16: Run  
Rating: T**

 _Booting up hardware_

…

 _Initializing software..._

* * *

His olivine eyes were alight with joy and warmth, staring at the girl on the side opposite of him. She sat with her head bowed, a piping hot cup of tea, along with its saucer, lay static in her hands. Slowly, he treaded his way closer to her, the wooden planks holding steady under his weight. She seemed to awaken at his presence, her head jolting upwards, fright on her face, though she relaxed once she made out his gentle features. A smile bloomed on her face, as she spoke.

"How are you, Makoto-kun?" She asked, tiling her head in bemusement. He grinned, drawing out the chair and positioning himself accordingly, plopping down on the comfy cushioned chairs, as he sighed.

"I'm doing fine, Maizono-san. Thank you for asking," He said gratefully. Maizono giggled, before taking a sip of her tea, holding it in a manner that exuded poise and elegance, shutting her eyes momentarily, before lowering the hand toting the cup.

"That's good to hear," She replied, before turning her head to glance out the opening. He followed suit, resting his arm on the chair's armrests, before staring outwards to gaze at the scenery.

It was absolutely breathtaking. The grass, trees, and plants were all alight with colour and scent, painting the air around them with a soft, sweet fragrance that wafted throughout the room. Birds, zipping from tree to tree, hummed their beautiful songs as they plucked the trees free of its berries. Ladybugs crawled up and down plant leaves, dodging the small drops of dew that blocked their path, whilst the animals frolicked about without a care in the world. He was so engrossed in its beauty, that he failed to fully catch her question.

"... Makoto-kun?"

He blinked.

"Er, sorry, can you please repeat that?" He asked embarassedly. She laughed, a melodious chime of laughter, before reiterating herself.

"I said, 'is anything exciting happening, Makoto-kun'?" He exhaled in acknowledgement, before turning back to the bright scene that sat in front of him, letting his grin stretch.

"Nothing too out of the ordinary. Just the same old same old," He replied, slouching his body backwards, content to just laze the day about without a care in the world.  
 _  
_"That's good to hear," She said amiably, trailing off once more, letting the gentle, peaceful, ambience take over once more. As the sounds of nature filled his mind, he couldn't help but be drawn to the girl, sitting across from him. The sunlight danced on her skin, tickling it. Her cheeks were a rosy pink, and her raven hair was almost tinted blue in the sweltering heat. She glanced back towards him, and immediately, her face was wrought with concern.

"Are you okay, Makoto-kun? You seem a bit... red," She said cautiously, her brow furrowed. Immediately, he raised his hands to his face, feeling gingerly for whatever she was talking about. His hands made contact with his cheeks, and he felt the temperature bump up a few degrees. It quickly worsened, as he realized that he was blushing. Pretty badly too, as it nearly set fire to his fingers.

Okay, perhaps that was a tad bit of an exaggeration, but it was what he felt. At least, something to that degree. He always felt this way around Maizono. A lot of people had, he knew, but he couldn't help but feel a bit more... attached. Perhaps it was because they spent most of their highschool life together, which led up to this moment. Sitting in a serene garden with Sayaka Maizono, the former idol. Not many could boast this.

His cheeks heated up even more at the thought of his companion, humming a peaceful melody, effortlessly hitting the correct notes with a sweet precision. He truly didn't deserve her at his side, yet here she sat anyway. She chose to spend time with him, of all people. Completely inaudible, he whispered out a thanks.

"Thanks... Sayaka..."

She perked up, despite the fact that she couldn't have possibly heard him speak, turning, her head tilted, a small smile playing at her lips.

"No problem, Makoto-kun," She replied daintily. He flinched, not expecting the reply, glancing down. She giggled at his response, only further deepening his blush, as he twiddled his thumbs with a sudden increased vigour, increasingly bashful. After a while, when the furious blush died down, he glanced up.

"How did you..."

"...Know what you're about to say?" She interrupted playfully, the grin widening. "It's simple, silly. I'm an esper!" She accentuated her line with an odd gesture, bending her fingers into an odd shape, reminiscient of a logo, before laughing once more. He followed in on her chuckling, his earlier concerns immediately forgotten. Instead, a new one prevailed in his mind.

How was he supposed to get his feelings out?

It was blatantly obvious to him that he had fallen in love then, when they met at the start of Hope's Peak. The rapidfire heartbeat and hellfire cheeks were definitely majour signs, not to mention the warmth that bloomed in his chest. He smiled, thinking of the joyful memories that they shared, thorughout their years in highschool. But those memories were now, slowly, becoming a hindrance. The more he thought of them, the more desperate he was to keep them flowing. He didn't want to change, the possibility of losing her friendship.

But... the lure of the possibility. The hope of a change. The delusion of false-confidence. They all combined, and, with a dash of desperation, surged his brain forwards. He turned, the words already lodged in his throat, ready to spill out at a moment's notice.

"Uhm, Sayaka-san?" He asked meekly, his lips trembling. She blinked in confusion, before turning to stare at him, her lips pressed together.

"Yes?" She questioned. He took a deep breath, before starting.

"Sayaka, I-"

And then the simulation cut.

He wasn't sitting in a beautiful, peaceful garden, the animals in harmonious unison, the dew clinging to the air in a mist. He wasn't watching the world go by, its white clouds slowly edging past him. No, he was in a dark, cramped room. He sat on the lone chair, which was close to breaking. Padded walls lined the room, and harsh lights swung overhead. Behind him, he heard the door creak open. The gateway back into the hellish real world. And, its gatekeeper.

Kyouko Kirigiri stared at him, a slightly sympathetic look to her. Though, for her, that was miles in terms of facial expression. He glanced at her, a disappointed look, before glancing back. They remained in dull silence, as the lights died down to a much dimmer light. Unsure of what to say, Kirigiri cleared her throat multiple times, bringing her gloved hand up to her chin.

"...You shouldn't keep using Alter Ego's ability It strains our power grid, and his memory," She said conversationally, glancing from corner to corner, trying to keep her eyes focused on one particular thing, though with the lack of details in the room, this job became much more difficult. He didn't say anything. He just bit his tongue, and remained quiet. She sighed, glancing down. He was doing this more and more often, disappearing into Alter Ego's program, for god knows what. She didn't know what he did. None of them did. They just watched him stumble out the room each and every time, his eyes glistening with tears.

And, the more she watched, the more she was slowly being persuaded to let herself be blissfully unaware of the gaps in her mind. In fact, most of them probably were. None of them had their erased memories back. Only Makoto, the brave Makoto Naegi, chose to have them restored, if only to give them a basis to make their decisions off of.

And his reactions were horrifying. Two weeks of crying. Depression. He had even almost lapsed into despair, if they hadn't forcefully knocked his mind straight. But the damage was done, and he knew what they didn't. Memories of two years, living in a school, in bliss.

The bliss that now caused pain. He refused to say anything. He claimed that it would be too distressing to remember.

She believes him. They all do. So, they all sit, blissfully ignorant, whilst he kept sinking lower and lower into the depths of his mind, haunted by whatever memories he regained from Hope's Peak. She didn't question why he begun using Alter Ego's system. Whatever helped, after all.

But there were limits. He had to stop at some point.

He grit his teeth, before slowly, and silently, slowly shuffling his way past her. He brushed by her shoulder, and her eyes widened slightly. Moisture transferred from one shoulder to another. He'd been... crying once more, hadn't he? She pivoted on her feet, staring at his retreating figure, as he quickly disappeared around the corner, the door clattering shut behind him. She noted trail of damp spots, spaced out thinly in a linear pattern. Her curiosity piqued, she glanced up.

"Excuse me, Alter Ego?" She called into the room, her hands folded.

 _"Yes, Kirigiri-san?"_

"Can you run the program once more? The one I requested you forcefully shut down?" She inquired. The room went silent once more, before the AI spoke.

 _"I suppose I can, Kirigiri-san. Very well. Please close your eyes. I will begin initialization shortly."_

With a small sigh, she slowly drew her eyes shut, reminiscing on Naegi. What could've possibly kept him so sad, even after all this time? Despite all he did, Makoto Naegi's mindset remained elusive to her. Either because she refused to pry, or because he was a much better hider than they both thought, she didn't care. He was entitled to his own space, after all. Soon, Alter Ego began to speak.

" _Booting up hardware_

Initializing software...

Alright, Kirigiri-san, you may open your eyes now."

And she did.

The first thing that hit her was the scent of morning dew, clinging to the air. The bright blue skies. The healthy and vibrant plant life, snaking around the gazebo she occupied. The animals and insects, all chirping or mewling in harmony, creating a pleasant atmosphere. She even breathed a bit deeper than usual, basking in the atmosphere. Her surroundings weren't like anything they could find in real life, and she would capitalize on it.

The next thing she noticed was the person, sitting a few meters away from her.

She stared in surprise, her eyes widening slightly, staring at the blissful and calm simulation of Sayaka Maizono, who sipped a cup of tea dutifully, as she observed the outside life. Her blue hair fluttered in the dull wind, and, in one instant, she understood. Makoto's pain. His regret.

They... they all had to do with Maizono. It was obvious, now. She knew how close the two had been in the few days they were together. She had seen it first hand. They stuck together like glue, perhaps even stronger.

It made her death all the more surprising, and harsh. Especially to him. In fact, she was surprised that he didn't just give up and withdraw after that; his sadness was almost palpable back then.

Who knew how much worse it was now? There were two extra years that he had on his mind, the ones that he volunteered to bear. She wouldn't be surprised if quite a few of them involved Maizono as well.

In two minutes, she realized why he came down here so often. Really understood. It was a way to delude himself. To keep himself hypnotized. To forget his own faults and misgivings. His own regrets, which he could never try to fix. He used Alter Ego's program for escapism. To hide. To run away.

Maizono noticed her figure, hunched over, and pensive, and she blinked, surprised. "Kirigiri-san? What are you doing here? Where did Makoto-kun go?" She wondered, still in the same pleasant tone. The suffix she applied to his name made her frown. Alter Ego could imitate a person perfectly, and that particular sentence wasn't an exception. The only problem was that It would've stirred up old feelings. Not hers, god no. The ones that Makoto had to bury now, for the sake of his sanity.

Anyone could see his crush on her. His love for her. The now forever unrequited love that he carried. She felt sad for him. She knew how it was going to work. It would latch itself onto his back, clinging like a stubborn rash. It would persist in his thoughts, no matter how far he put it behind him.

And Alter Ego couldn't always help.

The weight on her back suddenly increased tenfold, as she turned to stare out the gazebo, suddenly very melancholic and interested in the surrounding greenery, slowly shuffling over and taking the seat across from Maizono, a perplexed look still etched on the idol's face. She reached for a cup of false tea, and cupped it with both gloved hands, turning to face the blue-haired girl with a sad smile.

"I'm sorry, Maizono-san, but Makoto had to step out for a bit. He's running from the demons of his past."

* * *

 **I need to keep this note trite, or else emomtional impact will be lost.  
Alright. I got this idea off of tumblr, although the specific post eludes me. Just give credit to that particular person for giving me this inspiration. The post in question speculated on a scenario where Naegi constantly uses Alter Ego's ability to imitate people, and Kirigiri interrupts one of his sessions.  
This is my first one-shot that actually takes place on a Tragedy timeline. Much depression is to be had. It _is_ a tragedy, I suppose.  
It was fairly obvious that their surroundings were a simulation, but I truly hope that I was able to trick a few of you into thinking otherwise, at least until it cuts into reality. Also, run was a double entendre. The first was a reference to how you 'run' programs. The second is a reference to the last line, and how Naegi constantly 'runs' from his demons.  
That's all for now. Ciao, folks,  
run  
: to move with your legs at a speed that is faster than walking  
: to leave a place quickly by running  
: to run as part of a sport, for exercise, or in a race**


	17. Experience

**(Well, shit guys. As of a few days ago, this story has officially culminated a combined 10,000 views. I'm... stunned, for lack of a more exquisite word. I didn't ever expect to get this far, especially with how elusive this pairing is. Nevertheless, I want to thank each and every one of you for sticking with me for these two months. (Or, shit, is it three?). I'm truly grateful. Thank you. For the 20 reviews, 38 favourites, and 37 follows, not to mention everyone who just drops by. But, again, I'm rambling. Enjoy.)**

* * *

 **Chapter 17: Experience  
Rating: T**

"It's... it's really over."

He stared at the horizon in disbelief. The red wash of the sky, which had persisted forever, was actually fading away, retreating into the far depths of the sky, leaving the clouds a light, mars plastic grey. And even _those_ were starting to dissipate, leaving... the aqua blue sky. It was a sight he'd never seen, ever since he escaped Hope's Peak Academy.

So, naturally, he relished in it. He made sure to keep himself restrained, but he felt the smile spread across his face, warmed by the sight. He closed his eyes, and breathed deeply as the feel of fresh air hit his face. The ocean's lull seemed to enjoy adding to the illusion, as its waves washed in and out of the beaches and under the dock he was standing on.

It was _over_. The days of despair were finished. The remnants had all snapped out of their brainwashing, and had toted Mitarai back to Jabberwock island. The Final Killing Game, orchestrated by Tengan, was finished, albeit at the cost of the Head's lives, and the terrorists had begun to withdraw their attack. The worst was over.

He could breath easy.

He heard a giggle, as someone poked him in the back. He yelped, his eyes snapping open, as he turned around. Maizono Sayaka stood right behind him, a grin on her face, as she began laughing profusely at his reaction, making an attempt to hide her amusement.

Spoiler alert, she wasn't doing a very good job at it. Her cheeks were puffed out, and she pressed her hands to her mouth, her eyes squeezed shut. He blushed slightly, as she spoke.

"Sorry, sorry, Makoto, but it was too good to pass up," She admitted, still giggling softly. His blush deepened slightly, before it returned to normal. He smiled, before turning back to face the beautiful sky, where the sun had begun peeking out from behind a cloud, illuminating the sky much brighter than before. She tilted her head.

"Awfully contemplative, aren't you?" She asked, as she stepped forwards beside him, fumbling with her suit with an annoyed look. He bit back a laugh- She never liked the protocol of having to wear a suit for the Future Foundation, and avoided it whenever she could. Unfortunately, she never exactly had the chance to change clothes after being stuffed into the final killing game.

"Well, look, Sayaka. It's breathtaking," He gestured towards the scene behind him, the _-chan_ honorific playing on his lips clumsily; he wasn't used to appointing people with the honorific. She turned to stare at the scenery, and her eyes widened at the sight, a grin spreading across her face. She leaned out, inhaling deeply, before exhaling.

"It's... amazing. I've never seen the sun out, ever since we escaped Hope's Peak," She commented breathlessly, craning her neck to take in the beautiful landscape. Naegi smiled, his mind unconsciously wafting back to their high school years. Immediately afterwards, however, he winced, the familiar thought of Junko Enoshima and the orchestrated Killing Game slamming into his mind. He took a step back, as he glanced down, suddenly thrice as appreciative to the presence of the blue-black haired girl that was standing beside him, still soaking in the sky and sunlight. As she kept scouring the scenery, she heard him speak.

"...Sayaka?"

She turned to him questioningly, her head tilted. "Yes?" She asked, staring at him. He had his head bowed, and his hands behind his back in that one posture that he always used when he was thinking about sad things. Though, this time, he had a small dust of pink on his cheeks, as he rocked from foot to foot. _He's... He's going to say something about me, isn't he?_ She guessed inwardly.

"I'm... I'm glad you're alive."

Her intuition was still as sharp as ever. However, she was much more curious to the meaning of his words, especially since Naegi had never said something like this before. "What do you mean?" She questioned once more. He paused, as if unsure of his answer, before he glanced up.

"I'm glad that you didn't die in that school," He said, more resolute than last time. "I... I know you came close to killing someone. To escape, and see your band members. And... I'm glad that you didn't try to kill anyone, because..." He faltered, but his next line was blatantly obvious to her.

"You would've missed me?"

He looked surprised for a split second, before he glanced down. He nodded. "...Yeah. I would've missed you... So... uh, thanks..." He trailed off, unsure what to say.

Her cheeks were currently on fire, as she slapped her hands onto them, in a bid to try and stop him from noticing. Her heart was pumping faster than a sprinter's, and it took her all her might not to just squeal. _Why was he so damn cute he's so cute gyaah!,_ and various sentences like those ran in her head faster than the speed of light, as she shrunk her posture. She sighed in an attempt to calm herself, which did little success.

 _Damnit. Guess I wasn't able to ditch it after all._

Curse her feeble, stupid mind for still holding onto that damn crush that she had ever since the start of the school year. Curse it. It saved her from killing Kuwata but still, curse it. Naegi didn't deserve her affection. He deserved someone much better than her. Kirigiri or even Asahina. They both were better for him that her, and she knew it.

But she didn't want to believe it. Perhaps she had a twinge of hope that maybe, just maybe, he would choose her after all. After all, he seemed to have a crush on her back in middle school, right? That had to count for something.

Of course, she didn't say any of this aloud. Instead, she just said a simple, "Well, I couldn't have survived without you, y'know," Because it's the truth. She probably _wouldn't_ have survived if he hadn't intervened.

But that didn't matter, because they both went silent. The waves, and the wind, were all that she heard.

And the memory of all the death she had just seen in the past few days. Or... were they days? Hours? She didn't know. Her time was screwed up, ever since she escaped the Final Killing Game alongside Naegi and Kirigiri. She didn't know if days had passed, or simply hours.

As she made a mental note to ask Togami or Hagakure about how much time had passed, Naegi decided to ask a different question.

"I wonder, Sayaka... what do we do now?"

She blinked. "What?" She commented intelligently.

"What do we do now?" He reiterated, still pensive as ever. "The killing games are done. All three of them. Enoshima is dead, and the Remnants are dissipating into nothing. We've... we've done it. We... we beat despair," He said airily, as if he couldn't believe what he was saying. Truth be told, she was as surprised as he was. However, she grew even more surprised when she realized one thing: he was _right._ There weren't any large-scale terrorist threats anymore, and the attacks were slowly becoming less eloquent and grand, and more small, sporadic. "We've accomplished what we swore to do. So... what do we do now?"

Instinctively, she opened her mouth, but no words came out. Nothing. Not even an idea. She shut her mouth, and begun to think. What _were_ they supposed to do now? They accomplished their goal, to rid the world of despair. All that's left was...

Was to rebuild. To move on. To recover.

So, she said this. "I suppose we just move on from the Tragedy. Treat it as a bad event in history, and move on from it. And that's all," She said, equally as thoughtful as him. "It's a new beginning for us. For all of us," She mused, trailing back into a quiet serenity. The breeze picked up, rustling her still-undone suit coat, as she felt it chill her body. That was an unfamiliar feeling; the last breeze that she felt had been nearly three years ago, at the start of her time at Hope's Peak.

"...Move on..." He repeated it with an alien echo, as if the words were unfamiliar to him, glancing down moodily.

Then something... magical happened.

It was a burst spontaneity. Pure, unadulterated spontaneity. In fact, she didn't even think about it before hand, nor was she having an inkling towards it.

Alright, maybe that last bit was a bit of a lie, but still. She planned not to act on it, at least, not for a while.

That's why she was just as surprised as he was when she realized that she had gathered his attention, and glided in, pressing her lips to his. His eyes widened in surprise, as hers closed in bliss, her heartbeat once again speeding up. Time around them seemed to slow, and her breathing suddenly became all the more apparent in her ears, a low, steady breathing. Was this what Cloud 9 felt like? She didn't know, but it definitely felt like it, the breeze running off her cheeks, and brushing against her hair, as they stood stock still.

Sadly, all good times had to end at some point. She couldn't hold her breath forever, and she withdrew, the string of saliva slowly breaking as she pulled away and began panting, regaining her breath. Naegi had a stunned expression on his face, as his eyes remained transfixed on hers, a dull olivine meeting bright, ocean blue oculars, as his eyes remained wide. She had to bite back a laugh at seeing his nonplussed expression, as his brain slowed to a crawl to try and process what had happened.

Ah, the charms of Makoto Naegi. One of the many things that she was attracted to.

Finally, after some minutes of silence, he spoke, though his voice was barely audible due to how softly he'd spoken. "Did... did that just happen?" He wondered, touching his lips gingerly, feeling them. This time, she actually giggled, pressing her palm over her mouth, before she responded.

"Are you surprised, Makoto?" She asked, the _-kun_ spoken in a playful drawl, drawing out the _u._ She inwardly laughed at Naegi's reaction, as she turned to face the sky. They remained silent once more, before she spoke up. "I do like you, Makoto," She said off-handedly, his train of thought still rather obvious to him. He flinched slightly, slightly surprised at her sudden voice, as she continued. "I... I've liked you for a long time now. Since the beginning of the school year, in fact," She admitted, turning to face him. "And... I want to continue my destiny with you," She said softly, inwardly smacking herself at the sheer cheesiness of the line.

He was silent. Timidly so, as he decided to shift his gaze downward towards his shoes, his mood still glum. "But... the killing games. Both of them. I've... I've-"

"I know what you did," She interjected smoothly, her expression serious. She lifted her hands, grasping onto his wrist and tightening it. Enough to root him to place, but not enough to cause discomfort. "And don't blame yourself for it. We're all thankful that you did that. Otherwise, we'd all be dead. _I'd_ be dead. So," She shook his arm firmly, "Don't blame yourself. I'm grateful. We're all grateful. After all, you said to move on, correct?"

He remained silent. So, she continued. "We will move on. They won't be forgotten," She finished resolutely, staring at his head, his cowlick quivering slightly. His head slowly cranked up, his olivine eyes meeting hers, this time with a bit of defeat to them. He glanced down, noting that she still held onto him, and glanced back up.

"I'm... I'm not ready to move on," He admitted softly, the silent tears in his voice worming its way to the surface. She glanced down sadly, before slowly and gently drawing him closer. Close enough to whisper into his ear, and wrap her arms around him.

"Don't worry, Makoto... I'm not, either," She replied, her voice exceedingly gentle.

When Asahina found them, an hour later, they were still in a lovers' embrace, neither wanting to separate from the other, the faint breeze of the ocean rustling their clothes, as they remained completely silent.

* * *

 **Whoo boy.  
Alright, this was a special chapter. The prompt word is the vaguest word you could ever have. It was just a matter of choosing an appropriate subject matter.  
And, with the conclusion to the trilogy of Hope's Peak Academy, what better thing to write about than the ending?  
This was definitely good timing on my end, since I just recently hit 10,000 views on this particular fanfiction (and, again, thank you all for actually taking time to read this junkyard of a collection), and I felt that celebrations are in order.  
The AU I used in particular is intentionally rather vague. The only detail I'll state clearly is that Maizono survives both the School of Mutual Killings, and the Final Killing Game. Surely two characters, forced to suffer these traumatic experiences, would certainly be motivated to do these things, right? Especially a character type such as Maizono, who's a healing character, yet isn't perfect in her own regard.  
I'll be honest, this chapter was slightly difficult to write. I had to redraft the last bit multiple times, and it was certainly a task to try and write it properly.  
I suppose that's it for this chapter. Next one will be a lot more... hyper to write, that's for sure. Ciao!,  
experience  
: the process of doing and seeing things and of having things happen to you  
** **: skill or knowledge that you get by doing something  
: the length of time that you have spent doing something (such as a particular job) **


	18. Fatality

**(Curse school with its knack of sapping away all your free time. And my distractions. Anyway, I'll just leave this here. Once again, thank you all for your reviews, favourites and follows)**

* * *

 **Chapter 18: Fatality  
Rating: T**

If Naegi had to be honest, he never thought that he would make his first friend over a few, shiny quarters.

It was a sweltering, sunny day. Perfect temperature for the summer, and particularly what he expected. The sun beat down on anyone who walked in its path, heating the streets with a warm, bright glow, as a light, cool breeze passed overhead. Naturally, he did what every child his age did.

Go to the local arcade, of course!

So, here he stood, in the doorway of the cool, air conditioned building, stunned in his entirety, sans his eyes, which darted back and forth to glance at the colourfully decorated cabinets with the childish awe he was known for possessing, the nylon bag filled with quarters clinking against itself, snug in his pocket, as he slowly traversed into the cool room, filled with various arcade games. As he walked in, he heard general murmurings of video game drivel, along with the typical daily conversations that made up the place.

He shook his head of the frosty chill of air conditioning, as he slowly walked around the small space, dodging the older kids that surrounded him. He picked out a few that his cousin Hajime hung out with, but none of them were really close enough to his much taller cousin to warrant him actually going up and introducing himself. He sighed, and internally thanked his mom that he didn't have to babysit Komaru; that'd make things a lot more annoying and uncomfortable for the brunette boy.

After all, nothing screamed more attention than the new kid on the block and his baby sister, meekly playing video games. At least, this way, he could blend into the crowd more easily.

He sighed, unconsciously feeling the bag of quarters hidden underneath the hem of his sweater. It was filled to the brim of coins that he had painstakingly collected over three weeks, doing odd jobs around the house, and he intended to get his money's worth.

So, with that idea, he set out to play whatever game that came his way. He steadily and methodically picked out the illuminated titles, comparing and contrasting the games themselves with his mood; what did he want to play? He pondered it for a while.

And, after five minutes of deliberation, he chose to play the game _Mortal Kombat_ , inadvertantly setting his path on a collision course with someone else's.

Because, as he chose to do so, a crowd suddenly converged.

His heart sank, but he resolved to play anyway; cousin Hajime said that it was easily the best cabinet in the entire store, though he wasn't too keen to believe his older cousin. Still, he supposed that he had nothing better to do, so he tried to reach the cabinets, if only to spectate the crowd, slowly squirming his way through the throngs of people, whom were all cheering on two people, hunched over the controls of two adjacent cabinets, the buttons clicking away with a steady sound as the two continued their concentrated game, the intensity dripping off their brows like the sweat.

He had to hold back a laugh. They looked pretty ridiculous. At least, to him.

 _"FINISH HIM!"_

He was instantly snapped back to reality at the sound of those two words, spoken with a heavy tone. With his small stature, he easily squeezed into view of the screen, and was met with pure, copious amounts of wine-red blood, splaying over the screen and across the graphics as if it was actually real. He couldn't help but squirm uncomfortably watching as the second player turn into, basically, a pile of organs and bones, as the blood continued to leak.

 _"Scorpion wins! FATALITY!"_

The cheering seemed to grow louder at this point, as the first of the two players drew back, wiping their brow in the process. The girl's tan-brown hair and pink eyes instantly jumped out to him as familiar, but his cry of "Nanami?" went unnoticed among the throng of other kids cheering Chiaki Nanami on, giving her salutes and high fives that she returned, albeit a tad bit half-heartedly. As soon as the crowd had gone a slight bit quieter than it had been earlier, she turned to her opponent, and nodded.

"Good game," she said courteously.

Her opponent, however, was far from done.

"W-wait, Nanami!" She cried, the _-san_ suddenly seeming much more respectful than it was previously. Her voice was seemingly hoarse, but her expression was steadfast all the same, her ocean-blue eyes shimmering.

He blinked, as the second contestant came more into view. A girl with bluish-black hair, and dressed almost entirely in grey, with a grey long-sleeve and dark grey shorts, her neckline moistened with sweat. The girl was unfamiliar to him, yet, at the same time, seemed slightly recognizable at the same time. But... that can't be, right? After all, he, his sister, and his mother had only moved in with their aunt only two weeks ago, and he hardly interacted with anyone during that time.

So, what was this feeling of slight unease? He brushed it off momentarily, as Nanami replied.

"Hmm?" She asked in her trademark monotonous drawl, her eyes half-lidding. The girl glanced down, desperately, before glancing up.

"One more game! I was really close!" She exclaimed. He glanced off to the side, where the health bar on Nanami's screen still lingered, still well within the yellow range, before glancing back. Nanami shook her head, an oddly resolute look to her expression.

"I... can't do that," She said as firmly as she could with her borderline-narcoleptic behaviour, staring her down. The girl gulped, before speaking up.

"W-why not?" She asked, her voice twinged with slight sadness. Nanami sighed.

"Because... I'd feel bad... you'll lose all your quarters... and you can't play anything else... I think," She mumbled out, barely comprehensible. The opposing girl, on the other hand, heard it just fine, because she had begun to babble.

"But... but..."

Nanami shook her head. "Sorry... besides... It doesn't look like... you have any more quarters..." She pointed out. The girl tilted her head in confusion.

"What do you mea-?" Her voice suddenly trailed off, as her hand squirmed around in her pocket, rustling the linings for any spare change or loose threads. She was met with pure, empty space, and her skin whitened. "I... I can... I can still..." She said hollowly, her expression ghastly. Nanami glanced down, seemingly upset.

"Sorry..." She apologized, before turning to walk away.

"Wait!"

Everyone turned to stare at him, and he couldn't help but recluse ever so slightly at all the eye-contact. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath, and steeled himself. "I... I've got some spare quarters on me," He offered, untying the pouch from his pants and bringing it up, rustling it for accentuation. The girl turned to look at him, hopefully, whilst Nanami looked slightly shell-shocked. He vaguely heard her say _"Naegi..._ ", the _-san_ nearly inaudible, as she stared at him. The second girl shook her head.

"No, no... It's okay. They're yours, after all-"

"It's fine," He interjected firmly, surprising her with his sudden switch. His expression softened slightly, as he held it up slightly higher. "I wasn't going to use all of them today anyway," He said reassuringly, taking out two quarters. "So, you can borrow some of mine," he finished.

All eyes moved from him, to the blue-black-haired girl, her expression alight, a bright grin on her face. "Sheesh, really?" She asked in joyous disbelief, staring at him with the _dazzling blue eyes,_ her lip quirked upward. He shook off the butterflies in his stomach once more, as he nodded mutely. The girl laughed. "No way! Oh man, you're awesome!" She cheered, rushing up, snatching the two quarters from his hand, and rushing back to the second console. "Alright, Nanami, let's go for another round!"

* * *

Another round turned into two. Then three. Then four. Four combined 'best-of-two' rounds, comprised of everyone circling around the two girls, and cheering on their respective sides, as the two actual players sat, hunched over the consoles, concentrating sturdily. He'd hear random names- names he took to be the characters they played- get shouted out loud, along with another two words.

 _"Sub-zero wins! Fatality!"_

 _"Sonya Cage wins! Fatality!"_

 _"Kano wins! Fatality!"_

Over and over again. Luckily for his mind, he'd already played Mortal Kombat once or twice before, at his cousin's house before they moved in, so he already remembered the basic mechanics. That included the 'fatality' mechanic, which was essentially using button inputs to create the goriest mess possible. The only thing was, these inputs were incredibly hard to come across, and even harder to remember, as most people simply just mashed buttons and tilted the control stick wildly in an attempt to actually carry out the attempt. For someone to consistently get them was... impressive, for lack of a better word.

But then again, this _was_ Nanami.

That's what he was thinking as he watched the screen become swathed in red once more, the eponymous word _Fatality_ scrawled out in childish, blood red writing. He watched, curiously, as Nanami sighed, stumbling back from the controls, checking her watch in the process.

"Sorry... I've got to go..." She apologized, the same doleful frown on her face. The other girl just shrugged, the 'Loser' text still written on her screen.

"Aw, that's too bad. But hey, thanks for playing with me!" She offered cheerily, not the slightest bit upset at her profound losing streak. Nanami nodded, before the sound of honking outside diverted her attention. Her eyes went slightly wide, before she hurried off, though not before she looked back.

"See you tomorrow, Naegi..." She called monotonously, the _-san_ still drawled out, alongside her other syllables. He offered a half-hearted goodbye to his cousin's friend, as she disappeared past the sliding doors, to the collective groans of the now-dissipating crowd, most of whom had begun to return to their daily devices.

As he turned around to do the same, he felt someone immediately spin him back around, forcing him to spin multiple times in place, knocking him off kilter. Once he regained his footing, he felt someone steady him using their arms. He blinked back into focus, and was met with the same, blue-black haired girl, her expression morphed into one of surprise and slight anger.

"Wait, you know her?!" She demanded angrily, slightly flustered for whatever reason. He remained stock still, aside from the nodding, as he realized that he was in _very_ close proximity with a girl that wasn't his immediate family. However, she remained oblivious to this notion, as she kept her hands on his shoulders. Finally, it dawned on him that she had asked him a question.

"Oh, uh, yeah. She's my, uhm, cousin's friend," He replied, silently cursing his lifelong habit of stuttering. "And, she's really good at video games," He admitted sheepishly. The girl disconnected from his shoulders, sighing exasperatedly.

"Well, why didn't you say so sooner?!" She asked, a slight twinge of disapproval, "I wouldn't have wasted so many quarters facing her," She grumbled sulkily, pouting. He blinked, slightly confused, as he responded.

"Er, you, uh, didn't ask," He pointed out quietly. She paused, the answer soaking itself into his mind, and she chuckled sheepishly.

"Oops," She said, slightly embarassed, as she turned away from him, her expression unviewable from his perspective. "Guess I should ask them more," She whispered under her breath. She doubled back soon afterward, a normal, bright disposition about her. "But, hey, thanks for lending me that many quarters," She said gratefully, bowing her head slightly as a form of respect. He chuckled nervously at the gesture, shaking his hands and his head.

"Oh, it's, uh, not a problem," He admitted, pulling out the pouch of quarters, though the fleecy bag felt lighter than it had previously, if only slightly. He jingled it around for effect as he spoke, "I've been, uh, saving up," He said quietly, drawing the pouch open. The girl stepped over, staring down at the 'pot of quarters', so to speak, as he suddenly felt very conscious once he realized that he was shorter than her. She gaped at the collection, as she tilted her head upwards to stare at him.

"Sheesh, man, you've got about a few kilograms in there!" She said, a tad hyperbolic. He laughed at that, nodding in agreement. They trailed off into awkward silence, that was only broken by the sounds of the arcade cabinets that surrounded them, alongside the general chatter of older kids. They remained in the humdrum of the general noise, before she coughed. "Well, thanks again for lending me all those quarters. I should pay you back for them," She mused to herself, before turning around. "See ya!" She said, starting to leave.

She was halfway out the door, when she heard him call to her, in the same hoarse voice that he used in the fifteen minutes that she knew him. "Wait!"

She turned around to stare at him, his head hung lower, as if he hadn't actually planned to speak out. She tilted her head, waiting for him to continue, as he fidgeted with his fingers. Finally, he spoke.

"Er... I have a _lot_ of quarters," He said quietly, jingling the pouch limply, "Do... do you want to play a bit?" He offered timidly. She blinked, his offer sinking in, before she checked the clock. Three hours until her mom would be home. She wrinkled her nose, before turning back to him, a bright smile on her face.

"Sure!" She exclaimed happily walking over. He beamed at her, as he shook out a few quarters with some difficulty, thrusting them into her hand, slightly recoiling at her touch, before glancing down, still with the smile.

It then occurred to her that she forgot to ask one crucial question. "Wait," He stopped to lock eyes once more, slightly afraid of whatever she was going to say next. "...What's your name again?" She asked sheepishly, laughing at herself for her stupidity. He visibly relaxed once he heard her question, and spoke.

"Makoto Naegi," He said. She tilted her head at the name, letting it burrow into her mind.

"Makoto Naegi," She echoed, subconsciously adding on _-kun_ afterwards, and tinting his cheeks pink afterwards. Once it burrowed itself in her brain properly, she grinned. "Well, nice to meet you, Naegi. I'm Sayaka Maizono," She said, her pearly teeth visible. He nodded, memorizing her name as well. After five seconds, she decided that it was plenty of time. "Well, what should we play?" She asked thoughtfully, glancing around the arcade. He thought as well, before he noticed two absent cabinets, sitting right next to each other.

"Want to go for a few races?"

She grinned impishly. "You read my mind."

* * *

He flipped the quarter absentmindedly, catching it in his palm and absentmindedly running it through his fingers. It was change from the lunch he had bought, and he had no place to put it. Thus, he just let it rest in his palm, moving it randomly through the cracks in his hand.

Behind him, Maizono snickered, watching her boyfriend obviously lost in thought as he continued weaving the coin through his fingers, nearly dropping it a few times. She walked up slowly, outpacing him slightly to catch up with him, slowing to his pace once she was right beside him, watching him furrow his brow. After a few seconds of this, however, a wave of impatience surged over her. She poked him in the shoulder, and he snapped to attention.

"Oh, er, yes, Sayaka?" He blurted out, still not used to the different, more informal honorific, as well as the use of her first name. She snickered as he nearly stumbled over her name, before beginning to speak.

"You doing alright?" She questioned, raising her eyebrow in perplexity. He leaned backward Instinctively, though soon relaxed from his childhood reflex, pulling back in, Maizono giggling. "Still not used to my pretty face? I'm hurt, Makoto," She said, feigning offense, "After seven years, and a year of dating?" She said, filled with fake exasperation. Still, he seemingly didn't notice, for he stiffened in slight concern, until she began to giggle once more, prompting him to relax. Once again, he realized that she'd asked him a question, and he spluttered for an answer.

"Oh! Uh, yeah, I'm fine, Sayaka," He said reassuringly, raising his hand, the quarter still clutched in his fingers. "Just remembered something," He said nonchalantly, slowing his pace slightly. She took a few more steps, before whirling around to face him, her perplexed look still present on her face, gesturing for him to go on. As soon as he saw this, he continued. "Well, remember that old arcade on the corner?" He asked conversationally, glancing at the quarter once more. Instantly, memories filled her mind. Years of playing random games, bored out of her mind, her mom always at work. A day where, out of complete boredom, she challenged an unassuming older girl to a few rounds of Mortal Kombat.

And she lost. Badly.

 _Hmph, It's all so clear where my 'arcade champ' title went down the drain,_ She thought drolly to herself, chuckling. "Yeah, I do. What of it?" She said outwardly, sipping the tea from her cup. Naegi just shrugged.

"Dunno. For some reason, I just thought of the day we met," He stated pensively, the quarter shining from the sun. She chuckled aloud, and he tilted his head. "What?" He questioned. She shook her head, glancing down at the steam wafting from her cup.

"Oh, I was thinking about that too, when you talked about that arcade," She replied. He smiled.

"We met there, after all," He said, flipping the coin in the air once more. "And we bonded over a bag of quarters," He finished once the coin landed back in his palm. She chuckled once more, as they continued walking in silence. After a few seconds of the strangled silence, he turned to her suddenly. "Hey, do you-"

And then he stopped.

Because, at that moment, she'd zipped in, pecked his lips with her own, then just as quickly, pulled away, an impish grin on her face. Immediately and reflexively, he blushed. Hard. His pale cheeks instantly zipped to a rosy red, and he nearly dropped the quarter in surprise. She laughed at his reaction, which hadn't completely dissipated from his childhood habits, as she spoke. "Sorry, it was too tempting to pass up," She said playfully, jostling him by the shoulder. His blush remained present on his face, though he relaxed slightly. She laughed, before speaking. "So, what were you gonna say?"

He paused to think, putting his finger on his chin, as he glanced up to the sky. Finally, after a few seconds, he snapped his fingers. "Oh yeah; do you want to see if that old arcade is still running, and maybe play a game or two?" She laughed once more.

"You read my mind."

* * *

 **I really need more diverse ways to end these cheesy chapters; they all end sounding similar. Oh, and a more productive scale of work too.  
But, nevertheless, have this chapter. This prompt was inevitably going to be about arcades, though I'm not entirely sure if I captured the 'feel' of an arcade atmosphere, since I was indeed born after the boon of these establishments. In particular, the Mortal Kombat games, where the word 'Fatality' is used extensively- but you probably knew that already.  
Also, a note to anyone thinking it, regarding any requests: feel free to ask in a PM. I might accept or decline it, depending on how productive I'd be, and how comfortable I'd be at the topic subject. So, once again, just ask in the PM's,  
fatality  
** **: a death that results from a disaster, accident, etc.  
** : **a tendency to result in death**


	19. Helping Hand

**(I blame distractions. That is all. Thank you all once more for the reviews, favourites, follows, and your time spent, reading this junkyard heap!)**

* * *

 **Chapter 19: Helping Hand  
Rating: T**

Honestly, she wasn't sure what convinced her to stick around after school.

Be it boredom, free time, or just masochism, she decided to peruse the school grounds after the bell had rung. She sat by the gates of the school for a while in order to not look suspicious, before darting back in when the majority of her classmates left. Her dad wasn't going to pick her up for another hour, and her estranged mother was off doing something somewhere.

She didn't really want to know.

So instead, she preoccupied herself with the sights. The middle school she attended was rather well-off in terms of economic status, and had the money to spend on frivolities, such as a lounge room, a band room, and... a pool.

She didn't quite understand that last one. After all, their region got rather cold at times, which did not combine well with swimming.

But, then again, she was a twelve-year-old girl. She didn't really have the biggest grasp on the mindset of the creators of the syllabus.

In any case, she'd already spent thirty minutes roaming the halls, mostly with her nose wrinkled and her expression sour. She hadn't accounted for the fact that most of the rooms were locked after school, and that left her with about ten disappointments and one victory.

The victory was for the fact that the janitor rooms were open. People didn't usually get a chance to glimpse in those.

For the record, their janitors carried _way_ too much candy on them.

She shook that out of her head as she continued dropping down the stairs, two steps at a time, fumbling with her uniform's ribbon as she did so. She spent the entire half-hour systematically going through each floor, to try and find something exciting that lingered in her school afterwards. Maybe a trapdoor, or a ghost!

She was still disappointed that she hadn't found any, if she was being honest.

Still, there was one place that she hadn't visited yet after hours. The pool, and its surrounding locations. She decided to leave it for last, as it was on the ground floor, and had zipped up to the top floor when she started.

Now, here she was, forty-five minutes later, and on the bottom floor. With nothing better to do, she resigned herself to check the final area of the school.

As she walked through the change rooms, into the area cordoned off by chain-link fences, she couldn't help but notice the sound of someone humming softly. Immediately, her senses fired up, as her body language became more careful, her gait now a tiptoe, as she crept up to the corner.

The way her school had set up the pool, the change rooms led into the two bottom corners of the pool area, leaving the entire north side, along with the pool itself, relatively easy to hide from. Especially using the blind corners.

So, that's what she did. Pressing herself against the wall, she slowly stepped forwards, being careful not to disturb any of the foliage or animals that may be laying around. The humming grew slightly louder as she neared the pool, affirming her suspicions about the source of the noise. Whatever it was, it was coming from near the pool.

When she looked back on this, she would laugh at how overtly covert she had been. Simply not appearing in line of sight would've been satisfactory; but, once again, she was twelve years old. Plus, the newest movie was all about spies. She couldn't be blamed for taking part in the trend, at least somewhat.

Back to the present, she poked her head out from the corner furtively, her eyes darting back and forth, scanning the poolside for any unusual detail.

It didn't take her long to spot the boy, kneeling by the edge.

She blinked once. Twice. Each time was to make sure she was seeing things correctly.

It was indeed a boy. Her year, by the looks of his size, though he could possibly be a year younger. His brown hair was slicked backwards, and his uniform was partially wet, though from water or sweat she couldn't tell. He was leaning forwards, stretching his hand out towards the centre of the pool. Confused, her blue eyes ran along his arm, trailing onwards.

Until she saw it.

Perched in the middle of the swimming pool, a crane lay dormant, simply floating on the still waves of the pool, its wings folded oddly. It was eerily quiet, as it paddled to stay afloat, swimming in circles, and, just barely audible, she heard the boy whispering.

"C'mere... come on..."

She tilted her head in confusion, as she watched the boy, his hand still outstretched, waving it slightly. His tone seemed slightly desperate, as he strained to reach towards the center; towards the crane, she presumed, but the bird refused to budge. If anything, it glided _away_ from the boy, still wriggling oddly. She clasped her hands over her mouth to hide her laughing; this boy wasn't the luckiest boy in the barrel. He sighed in exasperation, leaning backwards, eyeing the crane in distaste.

As she stared, her mind was torn. What was she going to do? On one hand, she could go up and offer a hand: two heads were better than one after all, and she had ample experience swimming in that very pool. On the other hand, she risked being ousted. Her popularity at the school was quite unprecedented, and, with the new business contract that she signed, she was guaranteed to go global. Everyone would soon know her name, the lovely Sayaka Maizono, and she had to be careful about what connections she would form.

There were two options for her: Go and help, or remain pensive, and reclude back.

Worlds diverge and split, paths branching ever outward. This rang true in this moment. In one world, Maizono would just sit and watch the boy try and eventually succeed in coercing the crane into his care. He'd patch it up and send it on its way, oblivious to the fact that she was ever watching. She would go about the rest of her life, wondering who the boy was, until their third year of high school, when they finally met once more. In another world, she would've picked this option. She would've just stayed back and just watched.

In another world. Not this one.

In this world, a spark jolted her brain. Maybe a poor lapse in judgement, maybe just a spark of empathy, but she slowly slid out from behind her alcove, and stalked forwards. The boy had resumed his efforts in trying to woo the crane to his side, and was now fully engrossed in such, not paying attention to his surroundings. She slowly, though not as stealthily, approached the boy, and was soon behind him, hearing his fervent whispers.

"C'mon.. I'm not going to hurt you..."

Suddenly, a sinister smirk spread across her face, as a wicked thought occurred to her. She was in perfect position to just scare the living daylights out of the boy. She grinned, sliding backwards to ensure that she wouldn't be harmed by his surprised flail, she inaudibly cleared her throat, then, with as loud and as deep of a voice she could muster, she shouted.

" _WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"_ She boomed. The boy yelped in surprise, rocketing upwards, his feet nearly matching height with her head, as she began uncontrollably giggling at his overt reaction. He landed on his posterior, leaning backwards, breathing quickly, as her giggling became cackling, her sides beginning to ache from her laughter, which she clutched in retaliation. He scrambled to attention at the sound of her laughing, and she saw him turn around, staring at her with slightly accusing eyes.

"Haah... sorry... hahaha!" She managed to wheeze out before continuing her laughing, nearly brought to her knees from the sheer amount that she had been doing, her stomach beginning to cramp. She wiped her tears free of mirth as the boy began pouting, crossing his arms in a weakly defiant stance, as her cacophonic laughter resonated through the air in varying pitches, slowly dying down after a long period of time. "It was... too good to pass up!" She wheezed out, still chortling in amusement. A flicker of recognization slipped into his eyes, as her name ingrained into his mind.

He narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing here after school?" He demanded. She shrugged airily, glancing around her, picking up on a few small details.

"Same reason as you, I suppose. Boredom," She said knowingly, before shaking her head. "Enough of that. You look like you could use a hand," She said, pointing to the crane still lodged in their pool, who seemingly squawked at them as if to remind them of the detail that he was still indeed there. He blushed, glancing down bashfully.

"You saw that?" He asked weakly.

"Every bit of it," Was her dry response, as she turned her body to fully face the crane. "So, you need help getting that crane over, huh? What for?" She asked, putting her hand on her mouth to stare at the bird. He cleared his throat, slowly crawling towards the edge of the pool, pointing outwards.

"You see its left wing?" He asked, still pointing. She squinted her eyes, following his movements. Finally, her gaze landed on the wing that he'd been talking about, and she winced. It was seemingly bent out of its natural shape, and missing some feathers. The crane drew it in, as it continued to paddle. "I've got some medical supplies on me, and I was going to see if I could treat its wing," He answered.

She paused, staring at the crane, her mind internalizing and debating what to do. She had multiple options, all of which were viable, and, if she thought, then she coul-

"Oh, forget it," She said aloud, beginning to undo her shoe buckles. As she got them off, the boy glanced up to stare at her, confusion laced in his expression.

"What are you doing?" He asked. She turned to stare at him incredulously, removing her socks from her feet.

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked, pulling off her uniform jacket, tossing aside her bag, dropping any valuables, and leaping into the pool with a big _Splash!_ , creating a wave in her wake. Her body was instantly submerged, and she felt the cool, crystalline water brush against her skin. Her eyes snapped open, as she slowly began to paddle towards the crane, her vision blurry from the water.

The crane didn't see her coming, and she caught it with ease, wrapping her hands around the bird and linking her fingers together. It squawked in response, wriggling violently in her grasp, though that ultimately failed. She smirked triumphantly, as she slowly paddled back to the shallow end of the pool, her paddling turning into wading, as she slowly stepped up back onto the tiles, water dripping from the clothes she wore. She smirked.

"Peace of cake."

She laid down the crane gently in front of the boy, who was still too awestruck to speak. Eventually, words forced its way out of his throat. "W-wha-?"

"It was too much work to just try and coax it over. Just jumping in was much easier," She retorted, her skin starting to feel clammy from her impromptu trip. He blinked in disbelief, before he moved on.

"Aren't you cold?" He asked, staring at her. She snorted.

"No. Patch up the bird, or else I _will_ be," She responded, pointing upwards, clouds starting to coalesce into a small, fluffy, grey mass, the wind blowing slightly. "And, for that matter, you will too," She continued, eyeing him. He nodded gravely, pulling his satchel forwards and opening a side pocket, digging through the contents, and pulling out some gauze bandage, some medical scissors, and various other bottles. She stared in mild surprise, as he set to work, wincing at its loud squawking.

"Could you help hold him down?" He asked gently, keeping one hand on the crane, as he unrolled part of the gauze. She nodded, kneeling down and placing her petite hand on top of the crane, stroking it softly, as the boy began unrolling the bandage with ease and grace, her eyes transfixed on the way his hands slid the bandages out from the roll easily, making an incision in the fabric with the scissors. He began applying it, only afterwards realizing she'd been watching, and he glanced up questioningly. She blinked, only realizing the unasked question afterwards.

"Oh! Uh, I was, uh, just thinking about how good you were at that," She said, smacking herself afterwards at her question's odd structure. He blushed slightly, still continuing his bandage application.

"I... I've had a lot of practice with it," He admitted cryptically, still in the process of bandaging the bird up, the roll of gauze slowly shrinking with each pass around that he performed. She stared at him, squinting, as he sighed, pulling out a pair of scissors and snipping away at the end of the tape, holding it between his fingers very delicately. He taped it together, and he sighed.

"There we go. All patched up," He said, leaning back. The bird squawked at him, and she laughed once more.

"I'd bet that crane hates us right now. We just snatched it out of a comfortable area, and just forced something strange onto its wings," She mused gleefully, grinning profusely, standing up, and pulling her coat, buttoning it up and shivering, feeling the wind brush against her damp skin, regrets about leaping head-first into the pool suddenly pressing into her mind. He just shrugged, pulling the crane up with him.

"If it had complex thought, then it probably would," He said wryly, cradling the bird with some indifference. She shrugged, before an odd thought struck her.

"Wait, I never got your name. Mind telling me?"

He looked surprised for a quick second, before he glanced down at the crane, checking its reactions. "Makoto Naegi."

 _Makoto Naegi..._ The name rung through her mind, like a comfortable blanket. Warm and inviting, enough to make you smile as you snuggled with them.

Wait, did she just think that?

Shaking her thoughts free from her mind, she glanced at her watch, which, conveniently, happened to be waterproof and not dysfunctional. Her eyes widened as the luminescent time popped up on her screen, her mouth agape. Hurriedly, she slung on her bag, to the confusion of Naegi.

"Uh, what's wrong?"

She laughed sheepishly in response.

"Y'see, I've really gotta go! My parents are gonna kill me if I stick around here too long, and I never exactly told them that I was here. So, I'll see ya, Naegi!" She said turning around and sprinting away, her feet smacking the pavement as she dashed away, leaving a dumbfounded boy in her wake. As she sped down the sidewalk, and towards the car that laid, restless, her mind kept repeating one name, over and over. The boy she just met, trying to help a crane. The boy that she helped.

The boy who may just be a new friend.

Makoto Naegi.

* * *

 **Annnd that's a wrap!  
Oh man, I'm so sorry that this chapter is out later than It typically is. Honestly? I blame it on a combination of Xenoblade Chronicles X eating up my time, schoolwork, and another story that I'm working on and releasing soon. (Nudge.). But, that won't be released for a while, so, I'll update this. The next chapter, however, will most likely be delayed, because I want to devote my time to that other project.  
As for the chapter itself, I decided to go for a canon divergence. In this chapter, I decided to re-emulate the scene where Maizono's interst in Naegi starts gaining traction: where she encounters him caring for a crane in their middle school pool. However, instead of having Maizono remain placid and reactive, she becomes more proactive and decides to meet Naegi face-first.  
Damnit that ending is slightly rushed, but I felt obligated to finish this for you guys. So, I hope you enjoy, even if the story is kinda abrupt and sudden.**

 **helping hand  
: a figure of speech in which a person extends an act of kindness towards another person in need.**


	20. Breeze

**(Well then. 1/5 of the way, and 50k words later. I hope you enjoy this slightly shorter chapter. Thank you, once more, for your favourites and follows)  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 20: Breeze  
Rating: T**

She watched the hill with bated breath, her ocean blue irises flicking back and forth, disjointed from the sway of the grass blades, which were wiggling to their own rhythm. She sat alone on the hill that overlooked her school, but she liked it like that. Four years of high school taught her that it wasn't always the best idea to stick out, and sometimes blending in was better. She watched as the clouds slowly drifted, every which way, trying to decide a place to stay that accepted them. She suppressed a chuckle, as she slowly leaned back onto the grass, turning her sitting into laying. As she did, her neck automatically craned up, her eyes staring at the clouds with dazzled flare. They really were beautiful out, when you stopped to look.

She yawned loudly, not even bothering to mask her fatigue. Staring up at the sky, no matter what part of the day, made her relaxed enough to sleep, as she so aptly learned last year (She still couldn't get people to quit calling her 'Sleepy Sayaka'), but it was a nice day. She deserved something to relax to, especially on the day that it was. It was as if the universe aligned itself perfectly for that day.

She chuckled at her thought. Oh, who was she kidding, It was probably Naegi's fault.

As if on cue, the brown-haired boy appeared over the bend of the hill, toting both a stack of bento boxes in one hand, somehow managing not to drop any of them in the process, and his signature white canvas umbrella slung over his shoulder, a small grin on his face, as he spotted the girl that laid on top of the hill, who was now waving lazily from her position, her mouth pulled into a grin.

The notorious 'Lucky Bastard', Makoto Naegi, whom she befriended during their first year in highschool. Notoriously and infamously known to be unnaturally lucky, he unnerved almost anybody with his luck, leading to an odd sort of isolation. One where he was there, yet, at the same time, he truly wasn't. He lived in that odd, grey area for a while, slowly wading his way through highschool, quietly oppressed.

Until one day, a girl approached him at the foot of the school.

She smiled fondly, thinking of that fateful day. The day she buried all of her doubts, and decided to take a leap of faith. The biggest leap of faith she'd ever committed, but one she'd never, ever say she'd regret. Naegi was an enigma. He was quiet and polite, yet bold and stern at the same time, as if he were a downplayed version of a mishmash of opposing ideals and ideas. She could distinctly remember being extremely intrigued at the time, wondering how the boy had amassed any sort of hate. After all, there was nothing outstandingly egregious about him whatsoever. Surely that'd mean he was normal, correct?

Well, in truth, she was only partially correct. Naegi's luck was an absolute force to be reckoned with, and it hounded him like a lost puppy looking for a new owner. No matter what she or he did, his luck was always one constant, influencing factor, despite the whole 'arbitrary' aspect of luck. It was omnipresent. Subtly so, but still there.

She shook the thoughts away with the wind, watching as her companion slowly make his way towards her position on the very steep hill, stifling a few laughs as she watched him do so without any free hands and a very diluted perception, the present breeze blowing through with much more force than before, sending the brunette off kilter. Life had calmed down for both of them after the initial two years of hostile environment. It was as if turning sixteen had alerted the majority of the school of their immaturity and convinced them all to grow up.

She could still vividly remember the look of joy on Naegi's face, and her own, glaring suspicion, as two of their classmates invited them to the ice cream parlor. Their first real interaction with the other students in two years. She could also remember shooting both Kuwata and Asahina with the dirtiest, most cutthroat glares she'd ever produced, which were both successful and unsuccessful. Successful in the fact that she was seriously intimidating, unsuccessful in the fact that they continued nonetheless. However, all in all, her distrust proved to be unfounded; Kuwata and Asahina were both well meaning and very friendly.

Two friends more.

Slowly, yet surely, they integrated into normal highschool social life, gather more friends besides the two. Friends that she now considered dearly, almost as dear as she considered Makoto.

She watched as Naegi slowly got closer to her position, a natural rhythm seemingly flowing through his body as he made his way up the hill- faster than before, she noted. She smiled, before she stood up and slowly, quietly made her way over to his form, hidden behind the ginormous stack of boxes, which was much larger than she thought. With a swift motion, she latched onto half of the boxes, and pulled them away, lowering them and grinning at Naegi's surprised face as it took him all his might not to jump in surprise at her sudden appearance. She laughed.

"Surprise!" She said brightly, still grinning widely as he calmed down, blushing in embarassment.

"Hi, Sayaka," He said softly, his tongue slightly stumbling on her name. He probably wasn't used to its pronunciation, she deduced. It was understandable; after all, for two years, he'd respectfully and dutifully called her by her last name at all times, only recently dropping that habit. That deduction somehow gave her a chill of delight. _He was too adorable!_ She squealed in her mind.

She couldn't help it. With a quick crane of her neck, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, letting them rest for a good few seconds, before pulling away. She laughed once more, her voice an elegant melody of notes, as Naegi's face decided to invent a few new shades of red from her action, and he stumbled once more, though this time not from clumsy footing. They'd begun dating a few months ago. Absolutely nobody didn't see it coming. Heck, their new friends had even held a private betting pool amongst themselves to see when they would finally hitch up (Apparently, Ishimaru had out-lucked Celeste for the first and probably last time ever in that pool).

The thought of that pool existing was fairly amusing in and of itself, both in the fact that somebody took the opportunity to create it, or that her friends took the idea seriously enough to actually place bets.

Naegi brought her back to reality with a soft sentence. "Are you alright?" He asked. She blinked, her eyes refocusing and her mind jumping back to the present. She nodded, waving her hand.

"Yeah. Just reminiscing on our life in school. Can you believe it's been four years since we started highschool?" She asked incredulously, waving her arms to accentuate her movements. "That's absolutely crazy!" She exclaimed aloud. Naegi laughed as she continued to make her exaggerated movements, as he sat down.

"It's not so strange to think about; time flies when you're having fun after all," He quoted sagely, handing his companion one of the boxes that he'd been carrying so precariously before. Maizono's face soured as she took the box without much resistance, thumbing the lid open and glancing at the contents. Pork and vegetables. She rolled her eyes.

"Well, what a _fun_ first two years," She commented bitterly, reaching for a food utensil and snatching it with her slender fingers, "Getting bullied, and all that. Who did those jerkasses think they were?" She scowled, muttering under her breath. Naegi simply shook his head, a disappointing, yet gentle look on his face.

"We were fourteen and fifteen. We didn't know what we were doing, and I doubt they did either," He argued quietly, grabbing another box and checking its contents. Chicken. She, however, refused to back down, instead glancing up at the sky with a sour expression that befit her mood.

"I mean, still. That obscene amount of bullying? It's stupid. Almost like we're stuck in some horribly cliché'd story or something-"

"Sayaka, please, stop," She abruptly ceased speaking at his voice, turning her head to face him. He was glancing down, his expression pale and restless as he rested one of his frail hands on her shoulder, his fingers trembling as his face shadowed. She blanched, before she began to backpedal her statements.

"Oh crap, uh, sorry. I... didn't realize it was still a bad topic," She stammered out, internally cursing herself whilst she apologised. How stupid could she be? She, of all people, knew how much Makoto disliked badmouthing other people, or negative things in general. Naegi smiled with a bit of melancholy at her, before turning away, leaving silence in his wake. She stared at his back for a few minutes, before she decided to change the subject.

"...Graduation is coming up soon."

Naegi turned to face her, a surprised look etched onto his face. She smiled. "It's been an amazing four years, huh?" She said serenly, images of her life flashing through his mind, as she slowly slid over beside his smaller figure. He stilled as her body heat suddenly began to intermingle with his, creating a warm cocoon of pleasant silence. They remained in such taciturnity for a while, before he responded.

"It has," He said, before, in a fit of bravery, he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss on her cheek, quickly moving away afterwards, a look of embarrassment on his face as the apples of his cheeks slowly tinged itself in a scarlet hue. She froze, her expression blank and her body stiff as her mind suddenly slowed to a crawl, attempting to process the event that'd just happened a few seconds ago, with mixed success.

 _"_ _Did he just kiss me did he just kiss me oh my god I've always been the one to kiss him but he just initiated it OH MY GOD"_ Figurative sparks slowly began to fizz out of her brain as she slowly yet steadily processed the fact that, yes, Makoto had kissed her, and yes, he'd done it first. She blinked a few times, in order to reaffirm that she was conscious, and, when that failed to convince her, she drew her hand back and smacked herself with a resounding _SMACK!_

Naegi flinched at the loud, dry sound, as she began to shake her head to forcibly pull her back into consciousness once more, and her cheeks suddenly set on fire, looking as though she'd been slapped across the face on each side. She squealed internally, yet managed to contain herself to attempting to rub her eyes in a bid to get them to begin blinking. "Are... are you alright?" She heard Naegi whisper beside her, tilting his head as he watched through worried eyes. She chuckled.

"Mhm. I was just... pleasantly surprised," She said, her gaze flitting back and forth, her cheeks still twinged with a rosy colour. Naegi raised his eyebrow, but, out of respect, went silent.

The breeze billowed through the hills once more, rustling her clothes and her hair as it brushed against her frame. She shivered slightly from the slight chill, and wrapped her hands around her knees, pulling them closer to her body as she buried her face into her knees, a smile playing at her lips as Naegi slowly drew himself closer to her, leaning against her frame. The sun shimmered in the air, and, as the breeze blew, a few leaves began to detach from the tree, spirited away by the wind current without a care in the world, much like their huddled forms.

"Hey, Naegi!? Maizono!? The party's starting soon! C'mon, time for reminiscing is over. We're gonna be adults soon!"

She was brought out of her peaceful daze by the sound of someone calling out to them. She blinked a few times, rubbing the bleariness out of her oculars, before squinting, feeling the rustling of Naegi being brought out of his slumber as well. On a tidied courtyard, Leon Kuwata stood, waving his arms and in a ploy to grab their attention, not realizing the potential of his bright red-orange hair. "Hurry up, before Fujisaki and Yamada eat up all the cake!" He said, snickering erstwhile.

"Yeah, we're coming! We'll be right down!" Maizono hollered, cupping her hands around her mouth to produce an amplified noise, before turning to face Naegi, who was still balancing between sleep and wake, mumbling incoherently. With a small pat on his shoulder, Maizono aided one side, and he slowly shook himself awake.

"Nnh... how long have we been here?" He asked, yawning and shaking slightly. She shrugged, consciously feeling her wrist and the lack of a certain tool.

"I dunno. I left my watch somewhere," She said with an air of carelessness before she began brushing off her pleated skirt, slowly stretching to her feet and yawning. It felt like hours since she'd first sat down on the hill. It was such a serene sight that she couldn't help but get lost in time whenever she stuck around. It was so serene that she didn't even notice when she'd dozed off, and without lying down either.

"Ah... Why is Kuwata shouting at us from all the way down there?" He asked, frowning as he squinted at Kuwata's small form, still waving but no more words escaping from his mouth. Maizono blinked.

"Oh, right. Our class party has begun. We may want to go get ready for that, or else there'll be nothing left for us," She mused, stretching a hand towards him, which he accepted. Once they'd linked arms, she hoisted him up without much difficulty. She stared at their linked arms once more, the connection remaining linked and unbroken. Slowly, a warm feeling rose to her heart and her cheeks. "It's hard to believe we're graduating. What will we do next?" She wondered absentmindedly. They both turned and, picking up the now empty bento boxes, they began to walk down the hill, the breeze still blowing lightly.

"I'm... not sure. But..." He paused, for a surprisingly long period of time. "I'll do it with you, above everybody else."

She smiled.

* * *

 **Oh my lord I am** _ **so**_ **sorry.  
After the end of my last chapter, I was hit with a procedural amount of consecutive obstacles. I won't bore you with the details, but suffice it to say that I was hampered from actually effectively writing for this story.  
Thankfully, that didn't last too long, and I **_**should**_ **be back to normal. In any case, I hope you enjoy this slightly shorter chapter, which finishes off a miniature trilogy that I'd written about, spanning, obviously, three chapters. Cheat, Broken, Breeze. I... I've come a long way, even in the span of six months. Also, I've reached 1/5 completion. That's... astounding. I didn't expect I would've written this much, and that I'd amass the amount of views, reviews, favourites and follows that I've done. So, once more, thank you.  
Eh, enough of my rambling and odd sentiments. Hope you've enjoyed.  
(poor ending skills activate)  
Ciao!  
breeze  
: a light, gentle wind**


	21. Get Up

**(Posting this chapter at 12:30 A.M may not be an entirely sane idea, but I feel as though I'd delay this too long otherwise. Enjoy!)  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 21:** **Get Up  
Rating: T  
**  
The knife cradles itself in her stomach.  
 _  
Gasp. Wheeze. More pain._

Leon had stepped out of the room, starting to panic as he frantically ran out the door, the enormity of the situation fulling dawning on the baseball player. She laid in her friend's bathroom, feeling the life ebb away from her as the warm, coppery blood trickled down her stomach.

Blinking hurt. Crying hurt. Breathing hurt. Everything hurt.

She wanted to burst into tears. This wasn't how she wanted her life to end. She didn't want her life to end at all. She never wanted to commit murder, but she knew she had to take the chance. She had to get out of Hope's Peak Academy, in order to get back into the public eye. To find out if her friends were still alive. She had to make sure that she was still loved. That she still existed. That her friends were doing well.

 _She wanted to die. She was pretty sure she_ was _dying._

Her life up to that point had been built upon a shaky foundation. Fame, fortune and _love,_ all stemming from a career whose stars were only sacrifices in a game of chess. But, even if she knew that, she couldn't turn back. Her fans, her fellow members; they were all she had left. The only real proof of her existence, right?

 _Blood trickled. It oozed away faster than her body could hope to replenish it, her system working frantically to cope._

She lived and died as an idol. That was the only fragment of her still rooted to the earth. The only portion of her that would ever be remembered, no matter how much of a mask it was. She desperately wanted to extend the time that she felt alive on this earth. The time she spent as an idol, a pretty face and an inspiration to young girls. The only time she felt like she was alive.

But it appears she was too much of a coward after all. She couldn't bring herself Or maybe something had held her back. Something which gnawed at her mind, from the very first day that she entered the academy and her life went to hell.

 _The clock clicks softly, unheard to all but her, and, as she lays dormant, she remembers the innocent face of a doe-like boy, oblivious to all of the bad things in the school. A face she just wants to coddle and wish she could truly feel like was hers._

Her eyes snap open as she thinks of Makoto. _Oh God, Makoto._ She was leaning on his shower walls, her blood splattering all over the tiles that most certainly belonged to him. All of the preparation she did to shift the blame onto him... it was slowly yet steadily blowing up in her face. She coughed hoarsely, the blood spilling slightly, as one thought was clear. She was going to die, and sweet, innocent Makoto was going to take the fall for Leon. Just because of her.

She couldn't let that happen.

 _A spark of life surges through her. It's like adrenaline. It urges her to move. Quickly._

Get up.

With a surge of energy, she slowly wobbled to her feet, resting on the walls for support. She ignored the fact that her stomach feels like its on fire, or the fact that she can feel a slight weightlessness to her footsteps, the blood loss starting to turn her mind delirious. She slowly, yet steadily, staggers all the way to the door that separated Makoto's bathroom from his room, and wrenched it open, her eyes wide with fear and determination at what she may find.

Leon is nowhere to be found. He's probably begun to hide his presence in her soon-to-come death, she thought, and shrugs it off, before slowly taking a step forwards. Then another.. What's more important is Makoto. She _has_ to get to him. If only to say she's sorry. If only to try and emancipate him from guilt.

If only to say she should've realized that she loved him sooner.

Makoto's crush on her was about as subtle as an anvil dropped square on the base of a skull. The shorter boy tried to hide it, but it was painfully obvious by the way his cheeks stained red with embarrassment whenever she'd say something corny, or when she thanked him for consoling her. It was endearing to her, and she'd always internally giggle whenever she'd managed to produce the reaction from her, yet.. as much as her intuition guided her, it failed her in this one, crucial spot.

 _She twisted the second door open and glided outside. She clutched her hand, as the blood from her stomach dropped in short, slight bursts. Drip. Drop._

She never noticed, until now, how painfully obvious that slowly, she reciprocated. In her own, short time in Hope's Peak Academy, she could easily say that he was the person she'd spent the most amount of time with. He noticed her: From afar in middle school, or even now, with them bonding to each other over anybody else in this cursed game. He cared for her, enough to track her down and try and console her. He _loved_ her.

And she couldn't even try to build that relationship up now.

 _She remembers the promise that he made. "I swear, I'll get you out of here no matter what!" It's going to be a broken promise._

She laughed bitterly in her mind, her body too inflamed to produce the chiming noises that her voice supposedly sounded like. She wondered what it would be like, to truly have someone who loved you from the bottom of their heart. She wondered what could've happened if she'd realized that they both loved each other. She wondered what might've happened, if she hadn't decided to go through this accursed murder plot.

Was she _really_ willing to commit a murder to return to the real world? She knew she did some bad things to maintain her spot at the very top of the billboards. Some of those things, she would never admit to anybody. But... had her talent- the only proof of her existence, been truly worth it? She didn't even know if Monokuma would truly allow her to leave the school had she committed a murder.

And... what he would've done to Makoto, and the others.

 _As she begins to contemplate, she realizes how flawed her reasoning was, and she began to cry silent tears._

Was trying to premeditate murder the best idea? In her mind, she thought it through. In her mind, she had no holes in her plan. It was nearly flawless.

Too bad her mind forgot that she'd never have the heart to try and frame her sole companion in this hell-hole.

"Makoto..." she whispers to herself, "I'm sorry I never realized it sooner..."

Her vision was starting to swirl. The pain was starting to fade away to a dull, cold, numbing feeling. She realized, through a veil of fatigue and sadness, that she was well and truly dying. The knife seemed to bury itself deeper as she moved, the blood starting to drip in larger chunks.

With a sad sigh, she crashed against the wall, landing on it with a dull _thud_. Then, she glanced up. _Makoto Naegi._

This was his room.

The silent tears became real, as they began to flow down her eyes, her mind slowly trying to piece together what she would say. They might very well be the last words she'd ever speak on earth. And they would be to the person who tried to help her out.

The person who easily could've saved her. If only she'd been willing to trust him fully.

With a small twinge of hesitance, and a massive load of regret, she ignored the flares in her stomach and the sad truth prevailing in her mind, as she reached towards the door and knocked on it.

* * *

He couldn't sleep all night.

 _A feeling of dread. Of horror_.

All night, he had one thought pressing on his mind. The blue-haired companion that whose company he'd grown to adore. Sayaka Maizono, the Ultimate Idol.

The idol was in _bad_ shape. Even if she was slowly on the track to recovery, her mental stability was dangerous, and, with a small ounce of stupidity, he'd agreed to change rooms. He should've stayed with her. _Stupid Makoto_ , he admonished himself, _leaving her alone. You should've kept a closer eye on her_.

 _Somewhere in the world, the God of Irony laughs at his thoughts._

With a grunt, he twisted on his bed, a frown on his face as he thought of the idol, his cheeks unconsciously red in the process. What _had_ she seen in the video? What was so horrifying that it caused her to breakaway in a frenzy like that? Surely, the DvD's were fake, right?

Right?

 _He still can't sleep because, somewhere deep in his mind, he's worried. Worried about her._

He laid on his side, but, despite the comfortable and relaxing scent that she left behind clinging to the bed, he doesn't feel as though she's safe at all. As if there was something more sinister at play, and that he was an unwilling participant in the roulette of gambits.

 _Deep down, his luck is probably at play. He's probably right. The feeling grows._

He twists onto his back once more, staring at the darkened ceiling, as he thought of the words that she'd last spoke to him. _"_ _About the whole Esper deal. It was... a joke. Really, I'm just really perceptive."_ She spoke with a sense of fondness and relief as she spoke. For some reason, she seemed more... natural, than before. As if the mask that was in place had finally began to slip from her face.

But what lay beneath? He wasn't too sure.

 _The uneasy feeling festers underneath his skin. It feels like it's about to burn him from the inside out, but he doesn't know what._

He sighed, his brain spinning inside of it. As much as he didn't want to try to think about her, she invaded his mind at that particular moment. Was she doing fine? What was going through her mind?

Did she need him?

He shook the thought away, quashing it with all of his might. That was stupid, after all. She wouldn't love him. He was just a normal boy, consigned to the life of an ordinary person, horribly . She was destined to be a star; the very top of the top.

What was he to her, more than another person lost to the sea of people known as her fans? Something just didn't add up to him. Why would an idol of her caliber simply stop to talk to him? Why would she talk to _him_ , of all people? No matter how much he tried to think differently, his self esteem dictated that something was wrong. She didn't have an ounce of reasoning to stick around him. This wasn't right.

He was right, of course.

Tragically, it was for the wrong reason.

 _It's starting to scream at him now. There's something wrong here. He doesn't know why, but there's something the matter. Sayaka might be in danger. There's something wrong surrounding this._

 _Get up._

With a deep pit growing in his stomach, he kicks off the sheets. He slowly rises from the bed, Sayaka's familiar, comforting scent evaporating around him as he did so, replacing it with the dark room and a feeling of dread, swallowing his stomach up.

How couldn't he have noticed this earlier? The sensation that tinged the air was _terrifying_. With a soft whimper, he quickly leapt out of bed, his socked feet landing on the tiled floor without a sound, the horrifying feeling amplifying the further he stepped from the bed he was occupying. For a split moment, he was scared. He glanced back enviously to the bed, wanting to return to the serene feeling of sleep, of comfort. Slowly, yet surely, he turned around to face the bed.

Then... he began to step forward.

 _Knock knock. Ding dong. Somebody's here. Here for him._

There was a soft thumping on his door. Then, the sound of his doorbell.

With a near shriek, he leapt into the air, landing once more with a clumsy pose. His heart beats at a mile a minute, and that feeling of terror suddenly began to overwhelm him, helped by the fact that he was strangely on edge that night. He glanced at the door, his eyes wide and unsettled as the door continued to rattle.

 _Step by step, he slowly made his way over. Consciously or not._

Was somebody trying to break into his room? Was the person who tried to force their way into Sayaka's room going to come after _him,_ now that he switched rooms with her? He briefly considered the idea of switching rooms a success, but the terror in his stomach quickly overpowered that. What was he going to do? He didn't have any way to defend himsel-

 _"_ _Makoto..."_

Her voice snaps him out of it. Sayaka, sitting on the other side of the door frame. Her voice sounds weak, troubled, tired. His worries grow. It's enough to displace the horror of having a killer at his doorsteps.

"Sayaka! I'm coming, I'll get the door!" He hollers out, quickly moving his feet that he didn't realize were already moving without a mind of its own. He jogged over to his door, and, as he got to the front of the door, he sighed. "Sheesh, you shouldn't do that. You almost scared me to death!" He admonished, his hand latching onto the doorknob and pulling open the door.

 _And a horror stood behind the closed door._

* * *

When the door finally bursts open, she's lost all strength to remain standing. As soon as it swings inwards, her body falls forward, like a domino. Makoto is stunned, but manages to catch her regardless, though her weight brings him down. He quickly and frantically adjusts his grip as she begins coughing and she can feel herself being turned. She opens her eye, her vision blurry from the brink of death.

Or are those her own tears?

"Sayaka... Oh god, what the hell? _What the hell?!_ " Makoto is in a panic, and a majour one at that. He's noticed the blood that's dripping down her stomach by the teaspoonful, staining the ground. He's noticed her broken wrist. He's noticed the knife, plunged straight into her gut. "Sayaka... what happened?!" He asked frantically, clutching her face.

She's starting to get woozy. Everything hurts, and it's starting to encompass all of her thoughts. Despite this, she desperately tries to fight it, as much as she can. "I... I tried to kill someone, Makoto..." She wheezed out, coughing and nearly screaming as the pain engulfed her. Makoto's face goes aghast, as he tries to press for more.

"Wh-wha?! What do you mean- no, that's not important! We can still keep you alive! We can save you! Please, god, please don't die! Sayaka, don't die!" He's screaming now and nearly about to burst into tears, as he desperately tries to glance around the room, looking for something to stave off the bleeding.

She listened to it all, and a sad smile comes onto her face. Even if she'd betrayed him, he still wanted to rescue her. He... really did care about her. He truly did want to take care of her.

She coughs, and the pain acts up once more. Her head feels lighter than air, and her toes and fingers have gone numb. She couldn't feel them. Makoto glanced back down, his eyes wide as he stares at her pale, sickly face.

And then she spoke.

"Makoto... I'm not going to survive."

Her words break him. Even if she doesn't want them to. His eyes widened even more, as he frantically shook his head. "No, no, no! We can still save you! We just have to get someone to treat your wounds!" He fervently denies, glancing around the room as he slowly tries to ease her up, gently to stave off the bleeding-

He's cut off with a small, brittle laughter. Confused, he glanced down, at her face. It's vulnerable yet... mischievous. As if she were simply faking her death. But the bloodstains proved otherwise. She smiled once more.

"Makoto..." She coughed, "I can't survive this. The knife is stabbed too deep. I... I won't make it... I-I'm so-sorry... for everything," And, to his astonishment, the tears begin to streak down her face, pooling at the corners of her eyes before dripping down. "Makoto.. I'm sorry that I ever d-doubted you, that you wouldn't bring me outside, _"_ She hiccuped, her voice wavering, "I'm s-sorry that I tricked you... I'm so-sorry that I tried to s-set you up for murder..."

The back of his mind were setting off warning flags, but he ignored them. Sayaka was... his friend, wasn't she? She wouldn't-

"-do that to you, ever?" She asked blithely, her wheezing becoming louder and louder, "I-i'm sorry, Makoto, but that isn't true," She mourned, her expression growing depressed as she spoke. He blinked in surprise, before she cracked a soft grin. I'm psychic, remember? Haha, but that isn't true, I g-guess." She laughed bitterly, her voice slightly scornful. "If I were psychic... I would never have done this to you,"

He's at a loss for words, cradling her pale body in her arms. He's lost the will to stand up from their position, and simply just kneels. "You... tried to set me up for murder?" He asked airily, his expression blank. A sob escapes her mouth.

"I t-tried to lure Leon and k-kill him but I f-failed and it didn't work and... I'm s-sorry... I just- I had to get out. For the sake of my friends, and my f-fans... I forgot... about you," She lamented, glancing off to the side as she waits for him to suddenly view her with revulsion.

Instead, he simply squeezes her shoulders and brings her closer. He tried to hug her, which didn't end well considering their position, before he speaks, no malice present in his voice. "You shouldn't be sorry. It's what makes us... human, after all," He said reassuringly, cupping her deathly pale cheek. She laughs.

"I n-never took you for a poet," She mused, gritting her teeth as the pain flared up once more. He laughed in embarrassment, the apples of his cheeks slowly going red. However, he refused to drop her head to the floor, as her expression lost all valour. "B-but... I'm..." She trailed off, unsure of what to say. Her eyes glance around, as if looking for something. He's stares at her body, equal parts helpless and confused.

"Huh? What is it?" He pries gently, staring at her face. She stares at his warm, inviting expression, and she internally cries that she'll never see his face again, but thankful that it'll be the last face she sees. She smiles sadly at him.

Oh well. If she's here, she may as well go all the way, right?

So, she did.

"M-makoto... I love you."

He froze up, his body straining and his eyes going wide. He did _not_ expect her to say that. Not at all. So, he just answers in as intelligent a manner as possible. "Huhawha?!"

She laughs at his reaction. How... adorable.

She wished she could've seen more of it. She wished that her own weaknesses didn't cause her downfall.

"I love you... I should've realized it sooner, but I didn't, and I hate myself f-for it because... I know you do, and we c-could've lived, Makoto. We could've _lived_. But, instead," She laughs bitterly, "I have to go a-and try and kill somebody... Some kind of assistant I am," She said, her eyes watering up once more, "And now, I'm g-going to die, and I wish... I wish I could live to see the end," She said sadly.

Makoto simply stared at her in awe, his mind struggling to comprehend her rambling. He took it slowly, one at a time, and thus, didn't fully react until a few seconds after, his brain still reeling from the information. "You... you liked me?" He managed to say. It was a faint whisper, barely audible.

But she caught it nonetheless.

"I did. I truly _liked_ you. Loved you, even. And don't you dare deny that you didn't feel the same- it was written all over your face whenever we spoke," She managed to say the last bit playfully, despite the pain that coursed through her body. His cheeks stained red once more. She sighed. "But... it ends here. Because of my own weakness..."

She watches as her first- and last- love begin to panic, his eyes widening in horror as he remembered the knife, jutting out of her abdomen. She laughs one more time, the pain was starting to fade away now. It was beginning to feel more like a dull, icy sensation that washed over her body like a wave. He begin to glance up, panicked as he tries to find something- _anything!_ That could save her life. She simply tuts softly, a look of disappointment and slight fear flooding into her expression, as she feels the cold blanket envelop her.

Was she dying?

She thinks she's dying. She's right. Her eyes fluttered, her wheezing growing shallower with each passing breath, her chest rising less and less with each passing second. Makoto's getting more scared and fearful, she notices, and she smiles sadly. Poor Makoto... he'd have to prove her murderer wasn't him.

She should help him, one last time. For all that he's done to help her,. With a weak hand, she reaches towards her abdomen, wincing as a jolt of pain surged through her body. She grit her teeth, and slowly, weakly, began to scrawl. Makoto was panicking, hard.

"H-hold on!" Makoto stammers, a bead of sweat accruing at his temple, "S-sayaka! Stay w-with me!" He cries out, his eyes wide as saucers as tears began to pool up at his tear ducts. He clasped his hand around her motionless one, before his eyes drifted across her shoulders. His eyes watched in horror as she traced out the letter _e_. "W-wha-?!"

"I'm... Y-you're... gonna be... accused of k-killing... me... I... won't let... that h-happen," She wheezes out, her eyelids fluttering. A small, sad smile is still persistent at her lips, and a few tears dripped down her rosy cheeks. She shifts her blood-covered finger, breathing shallowly, and began to trace a new letter, her eyes beginning to grow glassy as her pupils beginning to dilate. "Because... Y-you don't deserve t-to die for my m-mistakes," She exhaled, her tears falling off of her cheeks.

He stared at her pallid, breathless face, the tears in his eyes streaming down his cheeks as he clutched at her free hand and shoulder. "You're... You're not going t-to die!" He cries out in disbelief, pulling her small, lithe, frame close as he convulsed slightly. "P-please... Just... You'll be fine!" He said, his voice cracking as he slowly began to dissolve into sobs. "Please, Sayaka..." He whispered out.

Sayaka smiles one last time, her eyes fluttering shut, as she finished the _n_ , her hand going slack. A shiny, whitish light began to hover in front of her vision as her eyes shut. "I... I... l-love you, Makoto... stay s-strong... survive..." She whispered out loud, a smile playing at her lips for the penultimate time. Her heartbeat slowed to a crawl, and her fingertips almost numb from the lack of blood. "D-don't cry... I'll... I'll always... w-watch over y-you..." She whispered out soothingly, as an overwhelming desire to sleep slowly encumbered her. She was tired from her day. She was tired from it all.

She wanted to sleep.

So she did. Her arm went limp, her body stopped breathing, and Sayaka Maizono was no longer alive.

* * *

 _"_ _Ding dong bing bong! A body has been discovered! Now, after a certain amount of time, the class trial will begin!"_

"What... the... fuck...?" Kirigiri watched with estranged, meticulous yet baffled eyes, oblivious to Oowada's swear, as they stared upon the scene. A dead girl, her eyes peacefully shut. Blood marks, trailing up to them. And, above it all, a sobbing, short, normal boy, his closest companion forever gone.

* * *

 **Well then.  
First off, hope you're all doing well. I apologize for having this out a bit late, but hey, school's a pain.**  
 **Experimenting a bit with a different tense in terms of describing sentences, and I feel as though I should stretch my wings a bit with this, since I'm objectively given more creative freedom when it comes to writing this. I also decided fooling around with the little italicized describing statements, designed to run in tandem and relate, but not fully integrate, into the story. Ah, I enjoy writing this series, if solely for the sheer amount of character study that I can find by exploring their relationship.**  
 **As for the actual prompt, the story drew inspiration from the sequence of events leading up to her murder. (Which I've finally got around to playing. Yes, I wrote 21 chapters for characters and a pairing I've only watched/read about. Shush.), with one key difference: Maizono manages to get up from being stabbed. I knew it would be too unbelievable to have her survive that, as infection and disease would probably off Maizono in the off chance that she doesn't bleed to death and has the knife removed from her body. Instead, I decided to give them one last heartbreak.**  
 **Hopefully nobody gives me too much flak for having Maizono jump the gun a bit with her emotions. She** _ **is**_ **delirious from blood loss, after all.  
I suppose that's all for now. Have a good one, everybody.  
Ciao!  
-Elesi  
get up  
the process of transitioning between laying or sitting and standing  
**


	22. Settle

**(I have no words here. Enjoy this six-month overdue chapter)  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 22: Settle  
Rating: T**

The sun gleamed overhead.

Sayaka smiled, keeping quiet as she focused on the road ahead of her, the paved pathways free of all cars instead of hers, though that was hardly a reason to drop her focus. Her foot rested against the pedal, her hands grasping the steering wheel with a light grasp as she stared down the road, sighing contentedly as she kept driving down the road, accompanied by nothing except the thoughts that mingled inside of her mind, jostling back and forth as she drove.

"Nnh… candy…"

She smiled, glancing at her rearview mirror at the young, brunette girl, fast asleep in her booster seat, her head resting to the side as she wore a slight, fuzzy smile on her face as drool leaked out of her mouth. Her smile remained, placed on her face, as her eyes diverted back towards the roads, which had begun to twist and turn slightly as she steadily began to draw closer to her destination, kilometer by kilometer; the businesses and various stores that were stationed in the lots placed next to the road slowly weaning off into residential buildings.

With a sigh, spotting another speed limit sign, she began to deaccelerate the car, turning off of the main road and into a suburban area.

* * *

With a small set of clicks, she locked the front door behind her, turning around from the door and slowly beginning to shuffle down the hallway after she'd kicked off her shoes. Her bag hung off of her arm, nooked in the folds between her forearm and her biceps, and she yawned softly as she sauntered through her house, a bout of drowsiness flooding her brain as she slowly made her way to the kitchen, just a few steps away. Dimly, she heard a crackling noise- something cooking? She wondered, before she slowly slid into the kitchen, not casting her eyes up from the ground as she spoke.

"Hey, Makoto? What's for supper-"

Then she paused. Blinked. A lilac-haired woman stood in front of her toaster, staring at the small, electrical contraption, waiting. At the sound of Sayaka's voice, she blinked, glanced up, and swiveled her head towards the navy-haired woman, still slouched over tiredly from her day. Unflinching, she spoke.

"Hello, Naegi-san. How are you?"

Sayaka stared blankly at Kyoko, who'd turned back to the toaster, which had chimed once, shooting the two slices of bread from the slots. She grabbed at them with a gloved hand, turned, and reached towards a jar of peanut butter that lay on the countertop, as well as a butter knife. Her mind was slow to react, so it took her about five minutes to muster up some form of a question that she could ask- time in which Kyoko used to spread peanut butter on the pieces of toast, before turning back and grabbing a jar of jam as well.

Finally, her brain came up with a fathomable question.

"Kyoko. No offense, but how the fuck did you get into my house?" She uttered, her voice located somewhere between tired and confused as she stared at her old high school friend. The lilac-haired woman blinked, staring at her, as she slathered jam onto the toast, before pushing the two pieces together.

"Your husband let me in," She replied, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world, taking a bite out of the sandwich a few seconds afterwards. Sayaka stared for a few more seconds, before she sighed in resignation, and pushed her handbag onto the countertop, weaving her way into the kitchen soon afterward.

"Alright then. Where is Makoto?" She questioned, his name floating easily off of her tongue as she did so, beginning to loosen the buttons that held her cardigan to her body. Kyoko shrugged, continuing her feast on the snack that she'd prepared for herself with their kitchen.

"I believe he went to retrieve your child from school," She hypothesized, before taking another bite and chewing thoughtfully, glancing upwards at the white-painted walls and ceiling. "What a drab colour scheme," She commented.

"I don't suppose you'd prefer purple?" Sayaka responded flatly, unbuttoning the last button and shaking the cardigan off, allowing the perspiration that clung to her skin to cool from the air conditioning that surrounded her. Kyoko chuckled, before she faded into passivity. Sayaka sighed as Kyoko began to clam up, her mind reminisced of their days in high school once more, with Sayaka forced to do more than a fair bit of talking for the both of them.

She stepped towards one of the cupboards, opening it and scanning the shelves to locate a certain item. "So, since you're here, would you like to stay for supper?" She asked, spotting the item she'd been looking for, and pulling it from the cupboard. Kyoko shrugged.

"I may as well. I lack anything else to do for the day," The lavender-haired girl mused, before biting at the nearly-finished sandwich. Sayaka chuckled, as she walked towards the table, pushing a plate in front of the various chairs that were placed around the table.

"That's a new one. I recall you always having somewhere to go back in highschool," Sayaka said, backpedaling towards the kitchen and glancing towards the kitchen in the process. "But I digress. Grab a seat at the table. I'll probably finish making supper when Makoto gets back," She called out airily, opening the fridge as she began looking for various kitchen ingredients that she was searching for, rummaging past the carton of eggs and the creamer (and noting a lack of milk. She'd have to buy some more when she next went out), pulling out a few extra ingredients along with the eggs.

When she turned back, Kyoko still stood behind her. An odd look had taken over her face, occupying her eyes as she frowned, her brow drawn together. As Kyoko put a hand to her mouth, striking a pose reminiscent of Sherlock Holmes, Sayaka knew she'd entered her 'detective' mode, and she sighed, a silly smirk slipping onto her face as she slid towards the stove, turning it on to the correct heat.

"Well then. I'd recognize that look anywhere," Sayaka joked as she placed a pan on the stove, sidestepping to grab some more ingredients. "What'cha thinking about?" She said, even though she's got a fairly good idea of the answer. Judging by the way that Kyoko was staring, it would probably have something to do with her. Logically, Kyoko would comment on something that was really different about her- which, of course, made sense, since they hadn't seen each other in a few years, and she definitely hadn't seen Sayaka before she had married Makoto.

Still, the next words came as a surprise. "You're… quite the homemaker, you know," She mused aloud.

Sayaka blinked, slightly confused. "What do you mean?"

Kyoko shrugged, pocketing her hands as she ate the last bit of her toast. "Nothing. It's just a bit unexpected," She continued pondering, leaning against the countertop. "After all, you _were_ the 'Ultimate Pop Idol' when we went to Hope's Peak Academy, remember?"

Sayaka blushed hotly as she remembered her highschool title- a title she disliked now that she had ten years of extra retrospective on her life. Still, she ignored it in favour of continuing her cooking, as Kyoko continued. "It's quite the opposite of a homemaker, after all. One wouldn't expect you to be the biggest pop sensation of one decade prior, now raising a family," Kyoko said thoughtfully, smiling tersely. "Quite a poetic ending, huh?"

Sayaka just rolled her eyes. "A poetic ending for a far-from-poetic person. It was going to happen though. Even I know how quickly pop sensations just… die out. After a few months, people are already looking for the next hot trend or popular group. Still, I'll admit that it was a _little_ bit nice while it lasted. Though…" She wrinkled her nose. "The stress was probably the worst thing I've ever encountered in my life. As in, I most likely could've snapped and tried to kill someone if I was under any more," Kyoko chuckled.

"A shame we didn't encounter a situation where we'd _need_ to kill someone else," She responded, and Sayaka laughed.

"Oh, shut up. I'm serious, you know," She fussed towards the second woman, mostly playfully, though not without a serious note. "Being a pop idol was horrible for my psyche. Absolutely awful. It felt like I had no privacy. That every part of me was someone else's. That I, on my own, was helpless. Y'know. It was so bad that I could barely even look Makoto in the eye when we started dating in secret."

Kyoko didn't respond, watching as her highschool friend continue cooking and talking. As she did so, Kyoko folded her arms, realizing that Sayaka's tone was far from angry. A bit remorseful, yes, but far from vengeful or ashamed. Sayaka continued, oblivious. "I've gotta admit that I felt _some_ sense of relief at the end of my career. Now, I can just devote myself to raising Sachiko with Makoto. Not the most exciting life, but still," She smirked, stepping back from the stove. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

She paused, before adding on. "Also, you'll pick up some tricks, raising a kid,"

Kyoko smiled, nodding in agreement as she watched Sayaka step backwards, still exuding some sense of grace from her constitution and stance. Watching her friend flit through, Kyoko was struck with an odd sense of nostalgia, and her smile widened ever so slightly at the minor realization.

Her friend had grown up quite a lot over ten years.

Sayaka yawned slightly, oblivious to Kyoko's small inner musings, stretching her arms as she began pulling more plates from a different cupboard. As she coasted past the taller woman, she glanced back. "Makoto and Sachiko will be home for supper soon, so please take a seat," She asked politely. Then she paused, before adding, "Oh, and by the way, please clean your mouth and shirt. You've got crumbs all over your face."

* * *

With a terse sigh, Sayaka killed the car's ignition. Pulling out the key from its socket, she pocketed the small metal and quickly slid out of the driver's seat, leaving the door open as she took a few steps backward, glancing up towards the sky to pass the time. She yawned, stretching her back free of the knots that had been tying her muscles together as, gingerly, she opened the metal door, peering inside to make sure the occupant was undisturbed from her very important business.

With a quiet snore, Sachiko slept fitfully, slumber claiming her in the middle of the car trip and refusing to let her go. Sayaka stifled a laugh, watching her daughter take an unplanned snooze- it seemed that school had taken a larger toll on the young girl than she'd liked to have admit, despite the full hours of sleep she was receiving. Quietly, Sayaka unclipped the seatbelt that was restraining her daughter to her booster seat, picking the girl up with both hands and scooping her from the back seat, careful not to coax her out of her slumber.

Quietly picking up the bright green, sequin-laden backpack after her, as well as the bag of groceries that she'd bought before she went to pick up her daughter from school, she shut both open car doors, locked them, and, with another set of keys, quietly slipped back into her house, the door drifting shut behind her before locking shut with a few clicking noises of a manual locking mechanism.

* * *

Sayaka hummed as she scrubbed at the plate, steel wool and rag at the ready or in use as she slowly yet steadily broke down the remains of food on the plate that she held. Her sleeves and hair both pulled back, she busily cleaned the aftermath of their supper, her eyes gazed down at the task she was working at while her ears began to grow distracted, focusing on the television that was still playing loudly in the dining room next door.

As she continued scrubbing away dutifully at the plates, her ears' attention began to waft, the sounds of the television beginning to fill her ears.

 _"And now, we'll begin our discussion about stars from the last decade,"_ Came a soothing voice from the television. Sayaka made a face at the title of the program running abroad the channel's signal, but nevertheless resigned herself to listening as she continued to scrub away at the stack of still-dirtied plates that stood in front of her. The television paused, before slowly, it whirred to life.

She nearly dropped a plate as she heard the lyrics to the first song began to play. _"Without knowing where we'd meet tomorrow, we told each other 'goodbye'."_ A wave of nostalgia washed over her. It ran over her head, both relaxing her and threatening to suffocate her right then and there. A chill ran down her spine, and she shivered involuntarily as the memories slowly alighted with familiarity, sending a bitter smile on her face as she picked up her previous plate and continued washing it, her ears pricked up as she tuned into the sound of the two speakers.

 _"Hey, I remember this song! It's by Sayaka Maizono, isn't it? 'Monochrome Answer'?"_

She had to stifle a smile at the announcer's enthusiasm for her arguably most well-known work, and the song that she held most dearly to her heart. All of her listeners had been quite oblivious to the song's meaning- or rather, the specific _person_ that she was singing about. Analysts had come up with something in a similar vein- that she was singing about a love, long lost, but none could pinpoint exactly _who_.

None, that is, until Sayaka had sung it for Makoto at their wedding, and flat out told everyone that he was the inspiration of that song (she still chuckled whenever she remembered Asahina's reaction to that fact). She'd been thinking of him when she was penning that song- the uncertainty of whether they'd meet again haunting her ten-year-younger self like a ghost, bound to the earth and in eternal search for their body.

She smiled, and tuned back in.

 _"You're right."_

 _"Man, what a tune! Capturing an entire decade's struggle for love with only a few minutes!"_

 _"Eheh… maybe you're giving her too much credit."_

Sayaka laughed a little bit at the comment, agreeing just a little bit with the second commentator as she whittled away at the number of dishes on her workload, the pristine plates drying off in the rack beside her. She made a face as she stared at the high pile of plates. She should talk to Makoto about buying a dishwasher and having it installed…

As she mulled over the prospect of a dishwasher, she heard the commentators continue.

 _"Still, though. It was a chart-topper when it came out! Her other songs did well too, didn't they?"_

"You mean the ones that she sung with her idol group? Yeah, I suppose. Monochrome Answer was one of her best, though,"

Sayaka's heart warmed just a bit as she heard the commentators ramble between themselves about her song, and her fellow band members in their best moments. The smile quickly transitioned into a hybrid between a smile, and a bitter frown, a variety of emotions tugging at her heartstrings, causing her to look down in a bit of grim remembrance. Unabashed, the presenters continued.

 _"Hahaha, yeah. Too bad that she just… quit on everybody."_ A grip of fear pulled at her mind, and she seized up, dropping the plate into the soapy water that was pooled into the sink. The glass plate landed with a _splash_ , sending water onto her apron, but she didn't care. Her attention was undivided as she listened to the presentation, a throbbing sensation running through her brain as her mind electrified.

 _No…_

 _"Yep. Got into a bunch of disagreements with her agent and her group. She got so heated that she got into a shouting match with her agent, which was recorded on the internet! Can… can we pull that up?"_

The fear seized at her heart once more, her mind blanking as she stared straight ahead. Her eyes were locked to the brick wall of the neighbouring house, her brain's functions ceasing to work due to her mind constantly contradicting and pulling at her grey matter, trying to decide whether or not retreating or shutting off the source was a good plan.

And when your brain contradicts itself, it begins to shut down.

Her ears continued streaming information into her brain, oblivious to the tailspin she'd been sent into mentally. She heard her screams from eight years ago, wailing as she argued over her path to the future. A bitter wave of nostalgia rolled over her as the two men let the dead air reign supreme once her younger self's curse-filled tirade had ended.

 _"…"_

 _"Well."_

 _"That was something."_

 _"Indeed."_ _  
_  
A sense of icy horror washed through her, dulled by her cognitive erosion. There was no shield against the harsh criticisms that would follow. No buffer to prevent her mind from shattering completely, unprotected and uncocooned by the harsh words that were sure to follow their spiel about her rage-induced tirade towards her manager.

No blockade to save her heart from the heartbreak of knowing how many people hated her, back then and possibly even now.

As she stared, straight ahead, her eyes dulled and her brain slowed to a crawl, the presenter began to speak.

Whatever he said was cut off as she suddenly jolted to life. Squealing in surprise, she felt as a pair of gentle arms wrapped around her waist, a presence suddenly floating behind her. She dropped both sponges into the soapy water in the sink, her gait suddenly drawn off balance as she was pulled backwards into a swift embrace, feeling as a familiar face rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Makoto Naegi asked his wife, concern weaving into his strong voice as he laced his fingers together right at her navel.

It was though his voice was a safety switch, because once she heard it, her brain resumed its normal function. Her heartbeat, which had been steadily accelerating, had begun a slow descent back to her normal heartrate, and her blood slowly thawed from freezing point. In an instant, all of the butterflies that'd tossed and turned and gathered in her stomach dissipated, flying away as though they hadn't been caged in her in the first place. She gasped slightly, relaxing into Makoto's embrace, a sigh escaping her lips as she spoke.

"Nothing, nothing… I'm fine," She replied uneasily, not moving from her spot, resting against Makoto's frame. She felt a dull observation prod at her mind as she sniffed, inhaling the wispy scent of chocolate.

 _"Makoto's… taller than I am,"_ She noted blithely, feeling his grip tighten slightly as he lifted her back up onto her feet so she could support her own weight _"When did that finally happen?"_ She mused, inwardly filtering through the memories in her mind- of her first date, of her first kiss, of her wedding- before she heard Makoto click his tongue. "Are you sure?" He pressed, "I… came in a bit earlier. I saw you dazed out. Are you absolutely sure you're fine?" He queried again softly.

Sayaka laughed a bit at his concern, as she placed one of her soapy wet hands on his own hands, weaving her own fingers between his as she sighed. "I'm fine now," She said, an airy tinge to her voice as she spoke, vaguely disconcerted with her surroundings. "It's just… the radio started talking about my old career."

An understanding look passed on Makoto's face, and his embrace strengthened around her. She felt him plant a kiss on her cheek, his lips lingering for just a moment, and she shuddered, just a little bit. Makoto smiled a little bit, nuzzling into her shoulder as he exhaled. "And…" She began, glancing off to the opposite side, "Well, I just…"

"Didn't like remembering, huh?" He murmured. Sayaka heated up slightly as Makoto laughed.

"Hey, you're not the only psychic around here," He joked, as Sayaka's cheeks flared red from more-than-slight embarrassment, her pupils dilating with horror as her previous melancholy thoughts were immediately shoved to the side.

"Y-you still remember that?!" She cried out in nonplussed horror, her skin aside from her cheeks paling as her rosy cheeks reddened even further, to the point of stained glass, as she recalled the joke that she'd often pulled on Makoto back in their high school years. It was obviously a joke (and a rather obvious one at that), but Makoto's reactions to it had always cemented it as a well-used one back when they were sixteen. Of course, after they'd graduated highschool, Sayaka was quick to bury the joke as far as she could into the grave, too mortified by how forced it had seemed.

Evidently, she hadn't buried it deep enough.

"Of course," Makoto replied cheekily, laughing slightly and watching as his wife grew more and more embarrassed as she relived their highschool days in her mind, the memories of Asahina tugging on her arm to drag her wherever she desired, both members of the relationship dragged along haplessly by the doughnut-loving girl. She remembered Fujisaki somehow pulling together strings to ensure that their wedding would be one to remember (and, somehow, he did, with grand televisions and various things he'd created himself specifically for their wedding). She remembered her-

A wave of heat flushed her skin red once again. She remembered their honeymoon.

Makoto laughed again, pulling away slightly to give his wife a bit of space. "Feeling better?" he asked. Sayaka was pulled out of her stupor, her normally porcelain skin tinged a rosy hue from all of the happy, yet embarrassing, memories that she'd drudged up from the corners of her minds. As she did so, she noticed how she felt… lighter, somehow. As if a weight had been pulled off her chest, leaving an airy feeling behind, with a light, filling, wholesome feeling. She smiled, her jaw setting straight.

"Yes, I'm fine now. Thank you, Makoto," She said gratefully, pushing at her sleeves, which had unrolled and pushed back down to her wrists again. Makoto nodded with a grin of his own as he stepped backwards and turned around, ready to continue with his own chores.

As he took his first step, however, Sayaka called out to him. "Hey, Makoto?"

He turned, "Yeah?"

"…I love you. I don't say it enough, but I love you, and I wouldn't have anyone else,"

His heart fluttered, and his grin turned a bit stupid as he felt a sense of elation flowed through him at the sound of those words- they'd never lost their charm, especially not when his wife said it to him again.

He couldn't resist running back to her, doing the dishes and planting another kiss on her cheek. "I love you, too," He whispered into her ear, before turning and bolting off. Sayaka watched in slight amusement as her husband hurried towards the living room, giddy with excitement.

It was almost like when they were dating again, and he had just gotten his first kiss from her (she remembered that kiss- it was on their first shared school dance, and she'd left a mark of salmon-coloured lipstick right on his own lips, the rest of his face going red to compensate for it). Almost nostalgic, in a sense.

She sighed, her ears unconsciously tuning in back to the program as she returned to her work of washing dishes, her workload still glowering at her with the hatred of one thousand different types of bacteria. A chuckle resounded.

 _"And that's it. She retired, even after all of her fans wanted her to go solo, or get a new contract deal, or at the very least, stay in the music business. She just… up and quit."_

 _"Man, that's still the best way I've ever seen someone quit a job."_

 _"Yeah… Sometimes I wish I could've done that for one of my old jobs."_

 _"Got that right, hahaha… Hey, what_

 _happened to her, anyway? Do ya know?"_

 _"Hm… Let me check…"_

A pause ensued on the radiowaves.

 _"Well, it says here that she married. She'd been dating one of her classmates from high school, and they got married a few years after Maizono quit the business for good."_  
 _  
"Man, she did? Heh, more power to her. Takes guts to pull off what you just did. Hey, Sayaka, if you're somehow listening? Amazing job. You really made a mark on the scene, even if it was just for a little while"_

 _"Yeah, agreed."_

Sayaka smiled in content acknowledgement, before her mind slowly zeroed in on her task: the stack of plates which had been clamoring for her attention for quite a while now, asking to be cleansed of their dirt. Soon, she began to whistle Monochrome Answer, hitting each note with a certain flawlessness that suited her, as she slowly cleaned the plates. Someday, she'd forget about the day that she got scared by a radio broadcast.

Someday.

But her response would never be forgotten, to both the radio, and her own husband.

 _Thank you too. For everything._

* * *

She slipped by all of the rooms with a dull boredom to her movements, still gingerly and carefully carrying Sachiko's still, slumbering form in her arms as she balanced the rest of her groceries on her arms, a perfect, if precarious, balance achieved through physics, being careful not to wake her sleepy daughter from her active day at primary school, a still smile clung to her face as she snoozed.

As she walked, feeling her daughter's warm breath against her neck, staring down her house's familiar architectural structure with the same familiar smell, she felt at ease. Proud. Happy. It was as though, somehow, walking through her house, she felt as though she'd been reaffirmed. A sense of positive reinforcement that bolstered her belief that her choice was the correct choice.

A smile tugged at her lips as she slowly glided towards the master bedroom, her shoes clattering quietly against the tiled floor of her house as she twisted the doorknob to their room open and slowly slid herself in, making sure not to wake a possible sleeping Makoto, though that itself would've been strange seeing as how he didn't typically come home until after she did. But, then again, stranger things have happened, so she'd learnt to account for almost all possibilities.

Of course, those precautions were assuaged when she entered her master bedroom, and she realized that Makoto wasn't in their bed yet, which gave her the space she needed. Quietly, she heaved the blanket, tossing it backwards to create a large enough blank, flat, cushiony space atop the mattress and pillows. Quietly, she set her daughter onto her bed, plucking off her small mary janes off her feet and tugging at the ties which held her hair up into her pigtails. Quietly, she pulled the blanket over her sleeping daughter, resting it right at her neckline.

She watched as a smile slowly wormed its way onto her daughter's face, a light seemingly glowering from her sleeping form as she wriggled under the blankets, slowly pulling them closer to her body as she slipped onto her side, a small snore escaping through her enclosed mouth. Sayaka stifled a cutesy giggle, before she stood up and turned to head out the door.

As she did, however, she was stopped by a bleary, sleeping voice, talking in her sleep and unknown to the entire world except for the blue-haired woman in that very room.

"Mama… I… love you…"

She froze. Then, very slowly, she turned around, trying to glean her daughter's face from the large mess of blankets on her shared bed. She was met with an angelic, smiling yet still snoozing face. Sachiko still slept, unaware to her voice's betrayal of her mental and subconscious thoughts as she rested away the fatigue of learning basic arithmetic and language conventions.

Sayaka smile widely, whispering "I love you too, sweetie…" She whispered to her daughter, before slowly creeping out the door and shutting it tight behind her, a soft clicking sound signifying the shut of the lock.

That smile would last the rest of the day, because, somehow, in some way, three words made her feel like, in the end, her entire life up until that very point was worth it.

 _I love you._

And she walked away from the door, her mind settled.

* * *

 **Holy hell am I rusty.  
…. Oh yeah.  
Hiya. As you can tell, I've returned from my sudden and inexplicable yet explicable absence from the general hub of writing.  
Simply put, I was busy with life, school, and a bunch of things like that.  
Enough about semantic details about some random bloke you've never met before except through reading his slightly sordid writings (though I've been a teetotaler my entire life), I apologize for the less than stellar quality on this chapter. Six months of not writing romance can affect you pretty heavily when you try to get back into it, so if any of my writing seems clunky… the reasoning has been revealed.  
… Oh yeah, I was also stumped with writer's block. Truth be told, this chapter had a different prompt originally, but I cycled through so many different iterations and possibilities that I couldn't seem to execute properly, which sorta annoyed me and stumped me simultaneously. Finally, I just decided to be a little… flexible with my prompts, and I switched a few prompts around (rest assured, this one was fairly close anyway, so…). This prompt deals with Maizono settling and raising a family. Not exactly the most glamorous life, especially for a pop sensation a bit after her peak (typically you'd go up from here), but that's why it's… well, settled. I did my best for being absolutely rusted over and encrusted with iron oxide, but it probably isn't my best.  
I ****_should_** **be back into the general swing of things. But, then again, my schedule is more arbitrary than the lottery, so I wouldn't place any bets. I'll do my best to place updates more regularly though.  
For now… Ciao!  
settle  
: to become quiet or orderly  
: to begin to live a quiet and steady life by getting a regular job, getting married, etc.  
: to put oneself into a comfortable position  
: to become quiet and begin giving one's attention to something**


End file.
